Antumbra
by Trans
Summary: After everything that has happened, Hisoka and Tsuzuki struggle to move forward, while facing a new and difficult case. What secrets will be revealed, and will their relationship survive? A sequel to The Sun Will Rise. TsuSoka.
1. Chapter 1

**Antumbra**

**A sequel to The Sun Will Rise**

**Author: **Trans

**Pairing: **TsuSoka and minor Tatari

**Rated: **M

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Yami no Matsuei nor any of its characters.

**Warning/Authors note **

I'm only doing this once, so please pay attention people. There will be no other disclaimers or warnings posted in any of the following chapters. I figure once I say what I have to say, that should be enough.

Firstly, if you haven't read The Sun Will Rise, you will obviously have very little idea what is going on. Read that first before attempting to read this story.

Secondly, in my quest to fill in all the plot-holes and unanswered foreshadowing Matsushita left us with, I will be including theories in my fan fiction which will be based on facts from the manga. How I came to these conclusions will be mentioned in the author notes of each chapter.

Some of my theories, and/or some of the plot devices I use, may be offensive to some people. I'm hoping that many of you will be readers of my past story, and therefore will understand my writing style and so on. The 'offensive' subjects that may be addressed/show up in my story, will be things like: abuse, rape, incest, murder, sex (haha I doubt any of you would be offended by the last one)…blah, blah, blah. All I can say, is that these things are important for my plot and character development. If any of these things disturb you, I hope you will be able to look past it knowing that I will try to write things tastefully, and that it is necessary for the story. In other words, suck it up for the sake of artistic expression.

Thirdly, I've decided to write longer chapters for this story so I do not end up in the same predicament as I did in its prequel (chapters of inconsistent length, and too many of them). This story will most likely be longer than The Sun Will Rise, and therefore I don't want to end up with fifty tiny chapters. This will also mean that updates might take longer than some of you have gotten used too.

One last thing, which is actually trivial, but I figure I might as well mention it. Unlike The Sun Will Rise, which only changed POV between chapters, I will be changing POVs between scenes in this story, just because I feel like it and the chapters will be so long.

I think that is all folks. If anything else comes up, I'll mention it in an author note.

P.S. If any of you are wondering how I came up with the title of this story you can read the entry entitled "Writer's Block" on my live journal.

corripera./

Please enjoy.

**Chapter 1**

Tsuzuki glanced down at his watch just for good measure. He couldn't be too hopeful in thinking that the big hand would mysteriously move backwards for him, could he? Whining around the donut hanging from his mouth, he tried to finish buttoning his shirt as he walked.

He was determined to get to work on time this morning. It wasn't the first time he'd made the resolution in his career as a shinigami, but during the last three weeks, he'd gotten much closer to his goal than he ever had before. His motivation wasn't to get to the good donut selection that was only available during the morning, or to avoid Tatsumi's deadly lectures which made even the most dullest of activities seem appealing, no, his newest motivation was to get back on Hisoka's good side.

He'd taken on personal missions before, like trying every dessert on a restaurants menu or seeing how many number two pencils could fit in one ceiling tile, but at least they were doable. Trying to appease an enraged Hisoka was like taming fire, and he still couldn't keep Suzaku from burning down a good percentage of the buildings she was summoned into. Failure likely or not, he couldn't stop from trying, because unlike all the personal missions he'd made before, this one was important. Hisoka was important.

Taking the Ministry building's steps two at a time, he hurried into the main office, still struggling to knot his tie around his neck. It seemed that he'd actually made it in early today, because the room was empty for the most part. There was no doubt that Tatsumi was already in his own office, having taken no days off after being gone for over three weeks on his mission with Watari. Beyond that, the only person he knew was in for sure, was Wakaba. She was currently at the copier, humming happily in a way only a morning person would be accustomed to. Luckily for Tsuzuki, Terazuma didn't seem to be in yet, and that meant that he could avoid any early morning scathing remarks.

Wakaba smiled when she saw Tsuzuki rushing in. He smiled back, despite the nervousness beginning to creep up on him. Hisoka tended to come in early, even more so when he didn't sleep well, which was disturbingly often. Tsuzuki couldn't keep from wondering if today would be a better day, or if he would only screw things up more.

He should have known that he was making a mistake, even if he believed with all his heart that it was for Hisoka's own good, the moment he told Tatsumi to take the Kamakura case. By now he had learned that Hisoka could only see Tsuzuki's need to protect him, as a sort of patronization. Perhaps he was so unused to people genuinely caring for him, that he couldn't recognize it for what it was. It saddened Tsuzuki to think that, but it made him all the more determined to never give up on the effort.

But this time…maybe this time he'd gone too far. He could still remember the hard anger that had shone on his partner's face when he'd found out why Tatsumi and Watari were missing from the office the day after Rui's case had come in. Betrayal had intermixed when he finally realized that Tsuzuki had known--hadn't told him. The moment he saw that look, he knew that he shouldn't have kept Hisoka in the dark.

Since then, Hisoka had barely talked to him at all besides a few short sentences. Even when Tsuzuki did something that would usually get a reprimand or a book to the head, Hisoka would now only ignore him. It hurt, but Tsuzuki knew that he deserved it. Even so…he couldn't stop himself from desperately wanting to fix things. After everything that they'd gone through, all the progress they'd made…he didn't want his mistake to be what caused everything to fall apart.

Hesitating at their office door, he reminded himself not to say or do anything that would worsen matters. Slowly, and more importantly quietly, he walked in. Hisoka was predictably seated at his desk, wearing jeans and a black pullover. The ensemble wasn't entirely professional, but no one ever really bothered with dress code in the Shokan division. Besides, it wasn't what he was wearing that caught Tsuzuki's attention, but how sickly his partner looked.

Hisoka was more pale than usual this morning. His eyes were just a little darker, weary at the edges, and reddened like he might have been crying. He was prone to nightmares, Tsuzuki knew, but he looked more worn down that ever.

His partner's hands were clenched around the file he was reading, his thumb running along the edge of the flap in an agitated manner. He probably had a headache. Lately, since his empathy had begun to return like Watari had promised, he'd been suffering from them frequently.

Tsuzuki's eyes darted to the bottle of pain relievers that was on Hisoka's desk. He recalled it being a lot fuller the previous morning. Was he hurting that much? Was it ok for him to take that many? Tsuzuki wanted to ask those questions, and many more, but he tried to hold his tongue.

Now that Watari had gotten back, albeit the day before, maybe he should tell Hisoka to go talk to him. He could have his empathy checked on or get a better medicine for his headaches. Maybe Watari would tell him to go home and rest, which was what Tsuzuki had been wanting to tell him, but had been too afraid to. He cared about Hisoka too much to see him pretend like everything was ok, but if he wouldn't listen to him, then perhaps he'd listen to Watari.

Hisoka seemed really intent on what he was reading, and hadn't even glanced in Tsuzuki's direction once since he'd come in. That made it harder for Tsuzuki to know how to break the ice.

Hanging his coat over the back of his chair, Tsuzuki sat down, eyes still riveted on his partner. Wetting his lips nervously, he asked, "how are you feeling this morning?"

Hisoka didn't look up. He didn't move. He gave no indication at all of hearing what Tsuzuki had said. The report in his hands seemed to hold all his attention.

"Is your empathy getting better?" he tried again.

Hisoka's lips thinned before parting. "I'm fine."

Tsuzuki picked up his pen, twisted it in his hands, and forced himself to not say anything for a whole five seconds before blurting, "if you are still getting those headaches then maybe you should see Watari."

"I said I was fine." Hisoka drew his eyes off the pages in his hands and glared at Tsuzuki sternly. They looked even more strained now that Tsuzuki could see them properly.

"You don't look fine," Tsuzuki said before he could stop himself. "You can lay down for a bit if you want--"

"I don't _need_ to lay down!" Hisoka snapped. "I'm fine. Stop pestering me."

Tsuzuki wilted a little, trying not to let the harsh tone get him down. It was obvious that he hadn't been able to keep his resolution this morning. He hadn't even made it to lunch today, and Hisoka was already angry with him.

"Oh, well…if you don't want to lay down…" Tsuzuki floundered for something he could do that would improve Hisoka's mood. "I could get you a donut from the break room!" Oh no…Hisoka hated sweets. Right. "Or…tea. I could get you tea or coffee if you want."

"Tsuzuki, if I wanted anything, I'd get it myself. Really, did you come in this early just bother me or are you going to get some work done?"

He smiled weakly at another one of his attempts failing. He looked to his own stack of papers and reluctantly pulled some forward. Working would seem like a logical way to get on Hisoka's good side, but it was difficult to focus on what he was writing, when he couldn't help but glance up ever other word. He was just too worried to work, and seeing Hisoka look so unwell…

Gathering his conviction, he placed the tip of his pen to a paper and began to scribble down some sentences where the form permitted. He thought he was doing a fabulous job, until he heard the sound of Hisoka finally putting down the report he'd been reading.

There was a long stretch of silence, and Tsuzuki almost convinced his eyes not to wander from the work he was _supposed _to be paying attention to, when he heard another sound. There was a rattle and a tap, and before he could even think twice, he was watching Hisoka twist the cap free from the bottle of pain killers.

Tsuzuki bit his lip. Hisoka's hands were shaking a little. He couldn't stay quiet. "You aren't fine. You should go home and rest. I'll tell Tatsumi--"

"Can't you leave me alone?!" Hisoka slammed the bottle back onto his desk, a few of the pills scattering. Hisoka's face was pinched angrily, but his eyes were shining as if he were closer to crying than anything.

"Hisoka…"

"I said I was fine, so I'm FINE! You never listen to a damn thing I say! I can take care of myself! I don't need you hovering all the time!"

"I wasn't hovering!" Tsuzuki shouted indignantly. "Why are you getting so mad? I was only trying to help--"

"I don't need your help!" Hisoka stood up suddenly. "I'm going to the library." Stalking to the door, he paused on his way out, and shot over his shoulder, "_I'm fine."_

Tsuzuki froze, half out of his chair and half in. He'd already been moving to follow Hisoka, but he stopped at the last reminder that he wasn't wanted.

Hisoka had been touchy the last couple of weeks, but he hadn't ever acted that upset. Tsuzuki wasn't trying to be overbearing, he just cared. If only Hisoka could understand…

Tsuzuki sighed, and stood up. Walking around to Hisoka's desk, he began to gather the runaway pills and tip them back into their bottle. After replacing its cap, he read the back, only to have his suspicions confirmed. Hisoka was easily taking three if not four times the recommended dosage. He wasn't sure if a shinigami had to worry about overdosing, but he still didn't like it. If Hisoka didn't talk to Watari on his own, then he'd do it himself.

While setting the bottle down, the folder that Hisoka had been reading earlier caught his attention. There wasn't anything remarkable about it, but he was close enough to read the label now.

Something in the pit of his stomach clenched painfully. Oh. He stared at the folder for a full minute, replaying in his head what had happened since he'd come into work that morning, and suddenly he understood why Hisoka had been more upset than usual.

In retrospect, he should have known that Tatsumi was an efficient guy, and being the efficient guy that he was, would have already finished his case report. On top of that, he should have known that Hisoka would want to know what had happened with his family. _His family_.

Tsuzuki swallowed guiltily. If the case had gone badly then it would be his fault. He would surely be blamed for keeping Hisoka off the case. And by the way Hisoka had acted this morning…

A strong anxiety coursing through him, Tsuzuki fell back into Hisoka's chair, his eyes never straying from the folder. Obviously he should read it. He knew he should. Still, he sat for a full minute in dread, unable to make a move towards it.

"Come on Tsuzuki…," he whispered to himself.

Hands a little shaky, he dragged the folder forward. It was light for a case of a long duration, but Tatsumi was known to be succinct rather than wordy. Taking a deep breath he opened it. The font was small and the boring sort that looked like it'd come from a type writer. It looked rather ordinary for something that could be the harbinger of bad news.

He began reading cautiously, comparing the world Tatsumi described with the one he'd seen. It was difficult to picture things the way he wrote them, but certain lines stuck out at him, allowing him to decipher the differences between reality and what the spell had created.

The Kurosaki estate, it would seem, wasn't all that different from what he'd witnessed. Minus Hisoka, the situation was eerily similar as well. "…Kurosaki Nagare suffered an eye infliction as well as a severe skin condition similar to psoriasis…," Tsuzuki read aloud in disbelief. Several minutes passed and his heart sank when he read, "after further investigation, the curse could be ascertained. Kurosaki Rui--"

Tsuzuki's heart sped up, his mouth becoming dry. Rui was pregnant in real life too, or as Tatsumi put it, "…an abnormal pregnancy with a gestation period exceeding two years…Heath unstable…living conditions questionable…" Phrases forced images to invade Tsuzuki's mind. He could see that sickly woman strewn on her bed again, skin a shocking white from lack of sunlight. He remembered that cell only too well, and could feel the heat of flames as it was consumed. Only in reality there was never a fire. Iowa hadn't killed Rui here. Without Hisoka, without Tsuzuki's presence…things had followed a different path.

In a partial state of shock, Tsuzuki continued to read the report, unable to truly comprehend what had happened. He just kept thinking about Hisoka, and how close to crying he'd looked before he'd fled their office.

"How did this happen…"

Tsuzuki finished reading, and covered his face with his hand, breathing deeply. It was all real. The Kurosaki family really was cursed, and Hisoka really would have ended up--

But no, that wasn't the worst of it.

Face unreadable, Tsuzuki swiftly stood up, and strode from the office. Tatsumi. He needed to talk to Tatsumi now.

He walked across the central office space, ignoring the now present Terazuma when he shot out caustically, "what are you doing strutting around this early? Piss off Kurosaki again?"

Within seconds he reached Tatsumi's office, and entered without warning. Tatsumi looked up calmly at the interruption, waving him in.

"I see that knocking was a passing phase for you."

"I read the file." Tsuzuki shut the door, and sat down impatiently. "Why didn't you tell me as soon as you got back?"

Tatsumi sighed, and folded his hands together in a thoughtful manner. "I knew that you'd be upset. You didn't ask, and Kurosaki-kun did." He smiled grimly. "I thought it would be best if I broke the news to him first."

"But I don't understand, why--"

"We did the best we could. If you've read the report, then you know that the situation was precarious enough without our involvement." Tsuzuki did know…but didn't want to accept it.

"There was nothing you could do…?"

"We had to terminate the pregnancy before we could exorcise Yatonokami. It was extremely likely she would die either way. We were at least giving her a chance."

"How…?"

"It is called a late-term abortion. Watari performed it. She was stable at first, and we planned to send her to a hospital once the curse was broken. Nagare agreed to everything before hand of course. However, before we could dispel Yatonokami, she went into cardiac arrest, and we weren't able to revive her. Her organs were already weak and on the verge of failure as it was, so the fact that she survived as long as she did was a miracle in of itself." Tatsumi's face rarely gave away his feelings, but Tsuzuki understood his slight frown and dark eyes.

"I'm sure you're right…" Tsuzuki bit his lip, a sad sort of frustration making his fists clench painfully. "I just…I wanted everything to work out so that Hisoka…"

"I'd hoped for the best as well. I would've liked to have spared Kurosaki-kun further regrets, but it just wasn't possible. Watari-san was truly dedicated to the case, more so than I've ever seen him on any other project. He put his all into trying to keep her alive. It was just her time." Tatsumi's voice had a lilt of sadness.

"But not Nagare's?"

"No. Without a vessel for Yatonokami to be reborn into, he was surprisingly weak. It was taxing for Nagare-san's body to attempt to remove the demon, but the possession itself was slowly killing him. We managed to exorcize Yatonokami in the end. He struggled, but it served as an advantage. Yatonokami depleted his energy enough that he couldn't create a physical form once he was removed."

"So he's gone?"

"Yes."

Tsuzuki nodded, relaxing a little in his chair. "You wrote that Nagare was injured."

Tatsumi inclined his head. "When Yatonokami was extracted it caused some physical damage. He suffered skin lesions and blood loss. The mark of Nagare-san's possession was a snake tattoo that covered a large portion of his skin." (1)

Tsuzuki could remember Sagaanasu ripping out of his back when he'd been rejecting his own possession. Even as a shinigami with his accelerated healing, it had not only been immensely painful, but had taken time in the infirmary before he could fully heal. He couldn't imagine what it would be like for a mortal.

From what Tatsumi had said, it sounded like external damaged opposed to internal injury like he experienced, so he hoped that meant he would be able to recover fully.

"What happened to him?"

"Once Watari-san had him in stable condition, we sent him to the closest hospital. He needs proper care if he is going to make it. From what I've heard, he is now in good condition, and will be able to leave the hospital when he has healed more." Tatsumi smiled dimly. "At least now the Kurosaki family, what is left of it, will no longer be burdened with such a curse."

"That is good…" Tsuzuki made eye-contact with Tatsumi. "I can't imagine what it would have been like for Hisoka…if he'd continued to live in that family. It could have been him someday. He would have had to…"

"Tsuzuki," Tatsumi said in the fond way he used in moments like these. He'd heard it much more during their partnership, but Tatsumi still used it when he knew that Tsuzuki needed comfort. "That isn't how things are now. I'm sure Hisoka appreciates what he has here."

"He probably hates me…" Tsuzuki slumped back into his chair. "He was already angry that I kept him off the case but now…" Tsuzuki rubbed at his face tiredly, trying not cry. "What if he doesn't want to be my partner anymore?"

"Perhaps not telling him the truth was a poor move on your part, but I'm sure he knows you only had the best of intentions in mind. You two have been through worse. Just be there for him like usual. He'll come around."

"He has been so cold lately. He doesn't even want to talk to me."

"Give him time," Tatsumi said calmly.

"But--" Tsuzuki stopped himself and sighed deeply. "I wish I could fix everything."

"I doubt that he truly blames you for anything. His anger is misdirected now, but give him a bit of time to sort though his feelings, and he'll come to you."

"You sound so sure."

"You are the only person he really trusts. It is common sense."

Tsuzuki was silent for a while, and Tatsumi allowed him to be. He continued working on whatever it was he'd been doing before Tsuzuki had interrupted, and Tsuzuki took some time to think things over. Finally, he worked up the courage to ask, "what were they like?"

"And by they, you are referring to--"

"His parents. Did they seem…like bad people?" Under the spell, Hisoka had loved his parents, most especially his mother, openly. In reality, he seemed to hate them. Of course Tsuzuki knew something of Hisoka's real childhood, but the contrast was difficult to understand when he'd only seen the one side.

Tatsumi looked up, but took his time before answering. "I couldn't tell you anything about his mother, however I would not describe Nagare-san as a bad person." He sighed, leaning back in his own chair and rubbing at his temple, as if this had been a subject that had been bothering him for a while. "Quite honestly, I wasn't sure what to expect. Nagare-san did not strike me as a purposefully malicious man. He spoke remorsefully and quite fondly of his passed daughter."

"But what about Hisoka?"

"He never spoke of him. I still can't be sure if this was out of guilt or lack of empathy." Tatsumi's eyes looked tired. "Nagare-san was troubled, that I am sure of, but I can't tell you what would cause him to treat his own son the way he did." (2)

"Even after everything he didn't--not a word?" Tsuzuki's eyes narrowed.

"To be fair, I never broached the subject myself. I'm sorry."

"No. I just--" He forced himself to relax again. "I thought that maybe even a little remorse…"

"I doubt second-hand apologies would do anything to improve Kurosaki-kun's current emotional state."

"You're right." Tsuzuki gave a meek hopeful smile. "Maybe just a little time…and things will get better."

qpqpqpqpqpqp

The echo of his quick footsteps were swallowed by the massive bookshelves surrounding him. Hisoka knew that at the very least, no one was there to hear him. As sensitive as his empathy had been since its gradual return, he would know if anyone was in the vicinity.

The blond charged quickly towards the area of the library he regularly haunted. It wasn't intentional, but at the moment he needed _somewhere_ to be. His fists were clenched impossibly tight, half-moon cuts being dug into his palms. His breathing was audibly loud, catching like it took all his energy to control it.

He reached his usual reading chair, but didn't sit down. Instead, Hisoka paced by the spot, breath now choking. "Damn it!" His eyes pinched closed, but as demanded, remained dry.

He wouldn't cry. Not over this. Not over _her_. He shook, anger rolling up his spine. "You deserved it!" he hissed to himself. "I hate you! You--you deserved--"

He took a few gulping breaths, his pace getting quicker, until suddenly he crumpled. He fell into the worn armchair, unable to stop himself from trembling. His fingers clawed into the upholstery, trying to ground himself somewhere solid, while his emotions turned.

"I don't care," he whispered to the dusty shelves.

The words in that report were still vivid in his mind. Memories of the spell clashing with childhood memories mixing with recent events deadpanned in Tatsumi's no nonsense way. Somehow even though they were only printed details, they ran into flourishes of images, and diluted feelings, almost like he was recalling experiences he'd had.

But he hadn't been there. He didn't see his mother die. He didn't see a demon forcibly ripped from his father's flesh. He hadn't been there at all, and…_he was glad_.

This was hard enough. Knowing what had happened, knowing that his mother was dead, that was enough to make him feel sick. He didn't want to care about any of it, but he did, and with an intensity that scared him. After everything that they had done to him, the hate and disgust they'd shown him, he still couldn't cut away the part of himself that wanted his parents to be safe--the same part that had been strengthened after the events of his last case.

He couldn't deny the sadness and pain that crawled under his skin when he'd read his mother's fate, nor could he pretend that he wasn't the tiniest bit grateful that his father had survived.

"I hate you! I HATE YOU!"

Tatsumi and Watari had been able to do things that he would have never been capable of if he'd been the one there. Nothing could have stopped--_She had been meant to die._ Then why did he feel so--

He balled his fists over his eyes, his head pounding. His headache was only growing worse, but he couldn't get himself to calm down. It wasn't like any of this would change a thing. His parents, dead or alive, hated him. He hated _them_. His death had proved that nothing could fix the rift between him and his parents. They had never once shown concern for his failing health, or shed a tear as his time on earth had drawn to a close. They had so obviously _not_ cared, and it was unfair that he could not help but care _so much _now.

"You never once--!" His chest heaved.

It was ridiculous really. Here he was getting upset like a child, over people who had hated him since the day he was born, then when someone truly cared about him… When Tsuzuki tried to help…he could only push him away.

"Damn it…"

It had been her time to go. The pregnancy had drained her…and it was for the best. At least Yatonokami had been destroyed. His father could finally be free--_Alone_--but why shouldn't his father be forced to feel the same loneliness he'd been condemned to as a child?! _Why--_

"I don't care…"

Why should he care? Why be upset for them?

"I don't--!"

When they never cared--

Never--!

Hisoka curled into himself, pressing his face into his knees. His headache had turned into a temple throbbing migraine. They weren't worth anything he was feeling now. Even anger was more than what they deserved. He just wouldn't think about it anymore. His parents had been out of his life for over two years now, so this had _nothing_ to do with him. It wouldn't affect his life here. He would be just fine. This was passing news, that was all, and once it had sunk in he could put it to the back of his mind.

He wouldn't even need to think about the spell anymore. He knew the truth about his family, and now everything was settled.

"It's _over_…," he reaffirmed aloud.

For several minutes he sat in the same position, slowly calming himself with weak declarations. Just when he was beginning to focus less on his frenzied emotions, and more on his aching head, he felt the press of someone else's emotions approach.

He'd been more than distracted, so he only had enough warning to quickly straighten into a more dignified position, before the familiar bubble of emotions turned in Watari walking down his isle of book shelves.

He paused when he spotted Hisoka, eyes inspecting him in one sweep. Hisoka was aware of how odd he must look, sitting in a chair without a single book within reach _in a library_, face probably still betraying some of his lingering emotions, and all at an early morning hour. If Watari noticed any of this, he gave no indication of it right away. His emotions, always an incomprehensible flurry, didn't waver, and he gave a beaming smile.

"Morning Bon! Funny seeing you here so early in the morning."

As casual as the comment sounded, Hisoka knew that Watari was fishing for an admission on his part. He didn't want the scientist to know how upset he'd been only minutes prior. It was better to admit a minor weakness to cover for a larger one.

"I have a headache. I needed to be somewhere quiet."

"Ah yes, your empathy must be returning by now."

"It has."

"I'm guessing it is not all fun and games." Watari gave him a knowing look. "Is it acting overly sensitive?"

Hisoka wondered how Tsuzuki had managed to get his way after all. He hadn't intended on visiting Watari, but it seemed that the other shinigami had come to him. "I thought it would have lessened by now," Hisoka confessed.

"Hmm…" Watari tilted his head, causing his glasses to slide halfway down his nose. He didn't bother to fix them. "I don't think there is much I can do help you with that, but if you are interested in some pain killers…perhaps something more prescription strength…?"

Hisoka was cautious to accept any help, especially from someone who regularly experimented on people, but Watari was pretty reliable when it came to the whole doctor-patient thing. As much as his pride would have liked him to turn down the offer, his head commanded otherwise.

"Thanks…"

"No problem. Let's just take a trip to my lab."

Watari waited for him to stand up, and then they both proceeded to leave the library. Hisoka still didn't feel completely in control of his emotions, but it was easier to force them down with someone watching. He convinced himself that he would feel better once his headache was gone.

As they made their way through the main building, Watari asked, "So how are things going between you and Tsuzuki."

Hisoka tensed. "Fine."

"Just fine?" Watari was smiling to himself. "I thought you might be past fine after that kiss." Hisoka almost stumbled over himself. Tsuzuki had never brought up the kiss, and he'd been too embarrassed or otherwise preoccupied being angry with him to ask, so he'd almost succeeded in believing that it had never really happened. After all, he'd passed out seconds later, and there was no way that Tsuzuki would--It had to be some sort of 'caught in the moment' type thing and--

Hisoka blushed beet red. "We're fine," he said shakily and with a hint of anger.

"So news that you had a spat this morning would just be rumors?" Watari had to be enjoying himself with that infuriating smirk… He was purposefully trying to goad him.

"It would be no one's business." He had the sneaking suspicion that Watari had been sent after him. How could he know that they'd fought this quickly? Why would he be in the library this early, and just _happen_ to walk by where Hisoka usually read. It was obvious that he hadn't been looking for a book, so…

Watari chuckled. "I can see what everyone was talking about."

"Everyone--" Hisoka glared at the ground. Damn nosy people, what were they saying now?!

"How _fine_ you two are seems to be the talk of the department since we left." Watari started fishing in his lab coat for his keycard. "I'm guessing that Tsuzuki withholding pertinent facts didn't go over too well with you."

Hisoka glared at Watari, but it wasn't very effective since the man wasn't looking his way. Why did everyone think it was their business what was going on between him and Tsuzuki? They didn't know anything. They couldn't know what it was like to have their memories twisted up on themselves, to be this conflicted, and have the person you trust most not tell you the full truth. They couldn't know what he'd been feeling these past weeks as he tried to sort out his confusion and anger.

Hisoka was ready to forget the whole thing and tell Watari off, but they'd finally arrived at his lab, and he was already opening the door. "Let's see what I can find for you."

He followed him inside and raised an eyebrow. There were papers scattered all over the lab workbenches, and his computer desk was a mess. "What were you doing," he asked before he could think better of it.

"I came in early so I could finish up my case report. I think maybe too early--look, all the coffee is gone already." Hisoka distractedly glanced at the empty pot, but then his eyes were roving over the messy paper stacks. Curiosity and the need for more answers burned in his stomach. "I'm sure you've read Tatsumi's by now." Again his tone was casual, but it was too easy to see he had ulterior motives.

"When I first came in this morning."

"Have you talked to Tsuzuki about it?"

"No." Hisoka's anger redoubled. "I don't see why it would matter to you."

"I just thought that considering what you two experienced together, it would be important for you to rely on each other."

"I don't need therapy. I thought you were going to give me some pain killers, or was that just so you had an excuse to badger me." Hisoka crossed his arms and scowled.

"Something like that." Watari's face became more serious. "Don't worry, it wasn't an empty promise." He opened one of the closer cabinets and pulled out a bottle. "I knew that you would come if there was a reason, but I'd also thought that you would have had questions to ask by now."

Hisoka was silent, unsure if he wanted to accept the offer or take the pills and go. He did have questions, but by asking them he might get answers he didn't like or be opening the way for Watari to ask _him_ more questions.

Hisoka stepped forward and took the bottle of pills, inspecting them to be sure they wouldn't kill him, before sitting down. Watari seemed pleased, or at least that was the gist of some of the emotions he could pick up. Sitting at his desk, Watari gestured for him ask away.

There were many questions still buzzing in his head, but few of them could be asked without reflecting on him with a vulnerable light. He wanted to ask about the estate, and if the gardens were still being up kept. He wanted to know if his mother would be buried in the family plot, and if his grave had ever made it there. Most of all, he wanted to know if his name was ever mentioned, if his father ever once thought about him, or if he really was forgotten so quickly. He picked at the bottle cap and looked down at his knees.

Finally he asked, "how did you convince him to allow the exorcism?" He really wanted to know if they'd told him they were shinigami. He could only imagine how his father would have reacted to such news.

"Tatsumi did most of the talking. I'm not completely sure how he explained it, but I believe Nagare was willing to take a risk at that point," Watari answered neutrally. Hisoka flinched internally at hearing his father's name spoken out loud. It was a strange thing to hear from one of his coworkers.

"Did he know you were shinigami?"

"I think he may have figured it out by the end. It became apparent that we weren't doctors, and at one point Tatsumi drank poisoned wine sent by his brother and survived. He didn't turn us away however."

Really? Hisoka thought on this for a moment, wondering why his father had been so afraid of his own child and not of two shinigami staying at his house. But it had always been his mother that had feared him the most…no, his father's eyes had always shone with hate. And the way he would say, "Hisoka," like he'd stolen it away from someone dear to him…

His throat burned. "Was he upset when she died?"

There was a pause and he could feel Watari's eyes pinned on him. "I couldn't say. We worked rather quickly after that so Yatonokami wouldn't have a chance."

Of course his father wouldn't have cared. No matter what, it was only the family name and himself that he cared about. Well now he could truly be alone with his stupid honor. The pills rattled as his fist tightened. He wondered if his father had felt the same fear as he had when he'd painfully brushed with death. Had he been scared, or wished for someone--anyone--to be there with him?

It would have been a fitting punishment.

"He'll survive?"

"He should."

Hisoka fell silent, having nothing more he could ask openly. He uncapped the pill bottle and popped one into his mouth dry. It stuck a little in his throat, the taste bitter and horrid, but a good distraction for the pain in his head.

"I'm surprised that you didn't ask anything about yourself. I would have thought what I'd said before would have sparked some curiosity by now."

"What?"

"Your empathy. I thought that you would have wanted to know more. It might give you a better answer than pain relievers." Hisoka looked up for the first time since they'd begun talking, and he was surprised by how deep Watari's eyes were. He'd never noticed before, but they seemed full of knowledge beneath their friendly veneer.

"I…" Hisoka frowned. "I haven't had time."

"We are Shinigami, Bon. All we have is time." Watari smiled, but it felt odd somehow, although Hisoka couldn't place it. "The more you know the better chance that you'll understand, and the more you understand the more things there are to know."

Hisoka knew what Watari meant, but thought it was a pretty philosophical statement for a man of science to make. Then again, perhaps it was just that background he was speaking from.

"You said that empathy is rare. What if I don't find anything in the library?" Hisoka challenged.

"As it happens, now you wouldn't." Watari pointed at one of the messy piles at a lab station. Hisoka didn't understand what Watari was getting at until he continued, "I took the liberty of checking out some books for you. Just some things that may be of interest."

"Really?" Hisoka was surprised. He hadn't expected Watari to go so far for him. When he thought about it…Watari had looked for him in the library just to give him the chance to ask questions. He'd been looking out for him since the beginning. Just like Tsuzuki…he was trying to help, and Hisoka had been so rude. A bit of guilt sprouted in his gut. Things had been so messed up recently, but he was beginning to realize that there were more people that cared about him than he'd previously thought.

"Yes, just try to turn them in on time. The Gushoshen can hold grudges for the longest time over just a few books."

"Thank you…"

Hisoka stood up and unburied the books from the messy pile. There were two titles: _Anatomy of a Shinigami_ and _Principal Treaties and Proclamations_. The third book had no title at all. They were all old and dusty, but in good shape like they hadn't been checked out much. Hisoka wondered how many shinigami like him, hadn't ever bothered to learn more about there current 'lives,' but had instead just gone by what little had been told to them when they'd first died. He could confess that even after spending so much time in the library, he'd never thought to search for more information. He'd always assumed that if there was something important to know…then someone would tell him.

But that just sounded ignorant now that he thought about it. He picked up the large books gratefully, and with growing expectation.

"I'd be happy if those are able to help you, but as I said before, I'd encourage you to talk to Tsuzuki."

Hisoka's ears reddened. "I don't know what to say to him," he said quietly. "I'm not mad at him for what he did, not now anyway. Just…so much has happened."

Watari shrugged. "I think a 'good morning' would go a long way. I doubt he expects as much as you are thinking. Some forgiveness might ease the tension between you two."

Hisoka nodded, then asked hesitantly, "who told you about our fight this morning? Tsuzuki?"

Watari grinned broadly. "Tatsumi. He's the one who gave me a heads up."

A shimmer of something wove through Watari's aura, but it was jumbled enough that he couldn't decipher it. He wondered what it meant.

"I better head back." He stowed his pills away in his jean pocket, and shifted the books to sit comfortably in his arms.

"Not so fast." He stopped and looked questioningly at Watari. "I think it would be a good idea for you to go home and get some rest. At least until you get used to those pills. They can make you groggy." Hisoka was ready to argue, but Watari held up his hand. "These are doctors orders, and Tatsumi has already agreed. Do you really want to disobey him?"

He opened his mouth and then closed it. Slowly he nodded.

"Good then. That will give you some time to read those too. Have a good day."

Hisoka scowled but chose to give up the fight. It might have been wishful thinking but it felt like his headache was letting up a little.

(1) Here I was referring to the mark that is supposed to appear on a possessed persons body. Watari says that a mark should appear, during the Devil's Trill arc, when Tsuzuki is bitten and then gets an x mark on his shoulder. Since Nagare is possessed and he is shown in the manga as having a large snake tattoo when Yatonokami isn't out and molesting him, I figured that this is his mark.

(2) I doubt that at any point in the manga Tatsumi is ever made aware of the extent of Hisoka's mistreatment as a child. I think that it is more of a general knowledge that he was treated like crap. Just thought I should clarify.

AN: My first chapter! Yay! At least things are finally rolling. God I am so happy school is now over, and yes, it really did keep me that busy that it took me forever to get started on this. It was worth it though, I'm proud to say that I made my class valedictorian! The suffering wasn't for naught. (Now I'm in the working force and hating it!)

See you next chapter! Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Red flowers covered both sides of the path, delicate petals curled, with long thin pistils shooting from their centers. The flowers had tall stems, making them sway in clusters just above the long grass. In the cool evening air, Hisoka could smell their light sweet fragrance. (1)

His body felt strange to him. The ground was much closer than it should be, his eyesight almost level with the flower tops. He looked down at his feet, much smaller than expected, and could see the hem of his yukata fluttering over them. His steps were unsteady and not able to follow the fast pace he was being tugged along at.

Hisoka's eyes followed the line of his yukata sleeve to see the hand holding his. It was large and masculine, dwarfing his own. The hold was almost painfully tight, squeezing his childlike wrist, and preventing him from slowing down.

"Father?" His voice came out small.

The broad back above him tensed, but they continued. There was no reply. Dark and edgy emotions filtered in through that hard grip, making Hisoka's stomach flutter nervously.

"Father? Where are we going?"

The hand gave his a jerk, and he nearly tripped. Those emotions made his fingers sting.

"Father…"

The flowers were growing everywhere now, only leaving their path empty. The smell was strong here, filling his nose, and making him dizzy.

"Father?"

Suddenly he stopped, and Hisoka tumbled into the back of his calves. His hand was released, and the man stepped away, kneeling in front of a rough stone marker. Hisoka watched apprehensively, not sure why they were here, or what to make of his father's strange behavior. A cup of water was poured gently over the top of the marker, and Hisoka spoke up again.

"Who's grave is this?"

"You want to know?" his father finally whispered. He turned around, holding a cluster of those flowers gently in his hand. He brought them to his face and inhaled softly. He had a smile on his face. "This is your grave."

Hisoka froze.

"It's your grave…Hisoka."

His heart pounded in his ears, as his eyes widened. His…his grave? Something slid past him, and his gaze darted quickly down to his feet.

"No!" Tears wetted his cheeks at the horrible sight. A large snake was coiled around _his_ rotting corpse, fanged mouth open in a hiss. Th-there was blood! He could see his own face, covered in dirt and rotting away, body disappearing into the ground…

His grave! His father would kill him! His mother had told him to so many times before and now he was going to do it!

More panicked tears flowed from his eyes, blurring his vision, and he gave a harsh sob. He tried to back away, but a hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him forward.

"No! No! Let me go!" He squeezed his eyes shut and struggled to break free. He didn't want to die! He wasn't a monster! "Please!"

"Shh…" Another arm came around his back, pressing him to a firm chest. He continued to struggle for a moment, until the calming aura of the man seeped far enough into his skin, like a warm blanket. He could smell the familiar scent of sugar and the kind of cheap laundry soap Tsuzuki used. Hisoka shifted closer, and wrapped his arms tightly around the other man's torso. "I'll keep you safe." He was himself again, tall enough that standing, his head fit against Tsuzuki's shoulder.

"Tsuzuki…" He could feel a hand sliding lovingly though his hair and slowly down his back. Tsuzuki's heart beat was loud in his ears. He couldn't remember why there were tears on his face anymore...

"You should just stay with me." A nose nuzzled into his hair, and he could feel the ghost of breath on his ear. He shivered. The emotions around him were thick and gooey like the consistency of syrup. He was used to his partner's adoration, but it was more potent now. It made his skin feel hot, and his mind a little muddled.

"I…I'm not going anywhere," Hisoka whispered into Tsuzuki's shirt. He could feel a flush start in his cheeks as he spoke, and it spread further, until his skin was tingling.

"That's right." An unseen, but felt smile followed. "You came back to me. You broke the spell and came back to me."

Tsuzuki had his hand spread wide, and fitted firmly in the small of his back. It was solid and real, and very distracting for some reason. They were just hugging. They'd hugged before. The last time had been after the spell. When…

Hisoka's breath shortened, and he couldn't seem to bring it back to normal. He shouldn't be thinking that now…Not when…

"And then we held each other like this. Do you remember?" Hisoka nodded numbly. "And then like this." Tsuzuki's other hand cupped his cheek gently, the heel of his palm cradling his jaw. Hisoka couldn't help but lift his head.

Tsuzuki was smiling down at him, eyes tender and the darkest purple he'd ever seen. His hair was a mess like normal--bangs falling in a playful, attractive manner. It was impossible for Hisoka to ignore how perfectly his features were set. His skin looked so smooth, and his mouth was curved just enough that a dimple was showing. And his lips were…

Hisoka swallowed. Why was he thinking _that_ way…?

"Then like this?" The pinky of that hand moved a little, so that Hisoka could feel it press against his bottom lip. He gasped, and the finger slipped forward just enough that he could taste its mild bitterness laced with the traces of something sweet.

He couldn't pull enough air into his lungs. His chest was moving so rapidly, but he couldn't keep himself from feeling dizzy. Hisoka kept remembering what it would feel like to have Tsuzuki's lips on his instead of that finger. Being this close but not close enough was a new sort of longing that itched under his skin, and made his pulse race.

Tsuzuki was leaning forward, and the tips of his bangs were barely tickling Hisoka's forehead. His breath was so warm, and tantalizing him further. If only he could think straight… "'Soka?"

He made a sound, something strange and from the back of his throat, and completely involuntary. It must have been enough through, because finally there was heat pressed to his mouth, gentle but with a pressure that portrayed the spike in longing he could feel rolling into him from everywhere that lean body touched his.

Hisoka kissed back hesitantly, afraid he would do something wrong. Tsuzuki shifted so that he could pull them more tightly together, breaking the kiss long enough for Hisoka to gasp for breath, before kissing him again.

They were so close, the emotions so heavy that it was nearly overwhelming, and the kisses were gradually becoming more insistent. It felt good…but a twinge of unease made its way into the back of his mind. Everything was happening so fast. He couldn't think properly, and his body was at the mercy of Tsuzuki's binding embrace.

Too fast.

Weakly, Hisoka tried to turn out of the kiss, but Tsuzuki's hand moved from his cheek to the back of his neck, and wouldn't loosen. A bit harder, he used his hands to push against Tsuzuki's chest, to show that he wanted to stop.

Hisoka gave a startled cry when the arm around him tightened, his eyes clenching shut in pain. "Tsu--" he gasped, before that mouth came back with bruising force, a tongue prying at his lips. Then there where hands touching below his back, and he just wouldn't let go--

Red light shone through his eyelids, and cold dread seized him.

His eyes snapped open instantly, and they widened in fear. He managed to twist his head free of that grip, ripping out some of his hair in the process, and shout, "_no!"_

Cold laughter answered him, and he felt that sick sneer. "What's wrong bouya?" That red moon was lighting everything like blood, and there was no other color left in the world. No! Not him! Not him! Everything had turned dark, and the emotions around him weren't comforting anymore. There was only want and domination and sicksicksicksick…

"No! No!" Hisoka shoved with his arms, but he couldn't break free from that iron like hold that was suffocating him. Sharp nails were biting into him as he struggled, and Muraki laughed and laughed.

Oh god no!

"Such a pretty doll deserves a pretty death."

"N-no!" He was sobbing again, because he knew what would happen next. He never broke free, he was never strong, he always cried, and Muraki always won. "No, please!" he begged in vain as he was pushed to the sakura covered ground--

qpqpqpqpqp

Hisoka woke up to screaming, and only when he ran out of breath did he realize it was his own. His eyes wouldn't blink, but stayed widened in a fixed state of fright as he quickly bolted into a sitting position and backed up until he hit his headboard. He couldn't catch his breath.

Wasn't real. All a dream.

Trying to swallow against the bile in his throat, he looked out into the pitch black of his room, but even awake he still kept seeing Muraki's face as he-- Hand covering his mouth, Hisoka lost the battle and had to dry heave into the waste basket by his nightstand. Luckily, he hadn't eaten anything that day, or it would have been worse.

As his hands had trouble holding onto the plastic can, he noticed he was shaking. It wasn't the small tremors he could pass off as being cold, but whole spasms of his body, and they wouldn't stop.

Just a dream.

Even without rolling up his sleeves, Hisoka knew that Muraki's curse was brightly glowing. He could feel the familiar burn and throb of the magic, like a second heartbeat that thrummed in his skin. This always happened after one of _those_ dreams, but this time he was more affected than usual...

Hisoka hardly ever had normal dreams. It was usually nightmares or nothing at all. Nightmares of that night--of Muraki--occurred with the most frequency. Just recently, dreams of fire and Tsuzuki's blank gaze had begun to terrorize him. To dream of his childhood…that was more rare.

Hisoka hung his legs over the side of the bed, and used one of his hands to grope for the switch to the beside lamp. His breathing was just slowing enough for him not to feel faint, and the clammy sweat that made his clothes stick to his body was beginning to dry.

The blond let out a sigh of relief when he found the switch, and the darkness of the room was chased away. Regaining some of his confidence, he stood up and walked to the bathroom. He was careful to turn on all the lights ahead of himself.

Hisoka started the shower and waited for the water to become warm. He was reluctant to take off his clothes, the thought of being exposed bringing up more images and stray emotions from his dream. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he wasn't surprised to see that in was 2:39 in the morning. He wouldn't want anymore sleep tonight.

Grinding his teeth, he ripped off his dirty clothes, threw them in the laundry basket, and stepped under the shower head. After closing the curtain, he picked up a bar of soap and started scrubbing. His eyes darted everywhere but at the curse covering his body. It was ugly, and no amount of washing would ever remove it.

He felt dirty, like there were still hands touching him, and guilt rose when he thought about how his dream had altered itself. After everything that had happened, it made sense that he'd have a dream about his father, even if it had been more twisted than any of the ones he'd had before of his childhood.

But then…Hisoka blushed madly and turned his face into the water spray. Why would he dream something like _that_? His guilt grew worse. He'd dreamt so intimately about his partner, and then, in some grotesque twist of imagination, turned him into Muraki. The comparison alone was wrong, and he hated himself for letting his insecurities make Tsuzuki into some kind of monster.

"He would never hurt me…," Hisoka breathed.

He braced his fists against the white tile in front of him, and watched the streams of water trail down his marred arms. Muraki had done this to him. All his pain had been caused by his family and then by that mad doctor. Tsuzuki had never--would _never_…

A shudder curled up his spine. It had been more frightening than any torture Muraki could inflict on him. To have Tsuzuki touch him like that--hurt him--it was his worst fear.

"Stop…"

He shouldn't think like that. It wasn't fair to Tsuzuki, who was always there for him even when he was so indifferent. He had done nothing to earn distrust. Never taken advantage. Never hurt him. Never shown any signs that he'd want--

Hisoka swallowed. There was _that_. True, Tsuzuki hadn't mentioned the kiss since it'd happened, but it hadn't kept Hisoka from thinking about it, perhaps more than he should. It had felt good at the time, something that seemed right for them to share, but afterwards it had bred all sorts of unsafe thoughts...

Tsuzuki said that he loved him. Perhaps if he could fool himself into thinking that it was the spell that made him say those things…because now he couldn't ignore what that might mean. No one had ever loved him before.

He'd turned on too much hot water, and it was almost scalding him. He only scrubbed harder.

What did that mean? For Tsuzuki to love him? Then, he'd said that he didn't expect an answer, but how long would that last? How long before he started wanting more? Hisoka didn't know how he felt at all, and the thought of committing to anything was more than a little scary. Just a kiss and already he was dreaming such horrible things.

It couldn't be normal. Something, either his parents neglect, or the corruption of Muraki's touch, had robbed him in that aspect. He couldn't accept affection as something easy or pleasant. He didn't know what love was or what it entailed. He didn't understand any of it--had never experienced it--and now he feared it.

Tsuzuki didn't deserve that. He shouldn't have to deal with someone who didn't understand his own feelings. It wasn't fair to him that Hisoka was so full of doubt and misdirected anger. All he did was love him, and…

But Hisoka didn't _want_ to hurt Tsuzuki. He didn't want the man to think that he was hated. He…needed Tsuzuki. The purple-eyed shinigami was the first person who had ever been kind to him and without that…without Tsuzuki…

Hisoka rested his forehead against the slick tiles. He was just so confused. He didn't know what to do or what to think. Watari was right. He had so many questions, but not enough answers. He didn't understand anything.

Turning off the water, Hisoka got out and dried himself with a towel. He walked back into his bedroom and pulled on a pair of jeans and a large long sleeve t-shirt with a high collar, so that his curse marks wouldn't be visible.

He fixed his tangled blankets and made his bed. When he was finished, he sat down on it and tried to relax a little. On his nightstand were the books Watari had given him, and the bottle of mystery pain killers. Watari had been right to send him home. He'd been so used to the weak strength of the other pain killers that when his headache hadn't immediately gone away with one pill, he'd taken two more. He'd barely made it to his bed before he'd literally passed out.

Hisoka looked at his alarm clock. It was past three in the morning now. That meant that he'd gotten almost fifteen hours of sleep. After three days without any sleep at all, it was an amazing feat. After weeks of sleeping so little however, it didn't amount to much.

Well he had free time now, and he'd rather keep himself occupied instead of letting his mind wander to less pleasant things. Picking up the largest book Watari had given him, _Anatomy of a Shinigami_, Hisoka set it in his lap and opened it. The spine was looser than he'd have thought, giving the impression that more people had probably read it than he'd first guessed. The pages still smelled dusty and old as he turned them.

There were ink diagrams of human bodies with all their parts labeled. Hisoka skimmed through the introductory paragraph. "Structurally, in solid form a shinigami does not vary from a human. Even with no discrepancies in structure, functionality of these parts differ." He read further. "…Notably the reproductive and endocrine systems function deficiently, while the lymphatic, cardiovascular, nervous, and muscular systems are notably superior to those of humans. The digestive and urinary systems remain functional…" Hisoka frowned. "…theoretical science can…"

It was interesting…but Hisoka wasn't sure how this would help him. Theoretical science? In other words shinigami functioned differently but they didn't know how since they had all the same parts? They were dead…clearly they already defied science by existing.

He flipped back to the table of contents, to see if there was anything useful in the book. He was surprised to see some of the section titles circled: "Accelerated Healing," "Composition and Appearance," and "Basic Abilities."

First, he turned to the beginning of the section "Accelerated Healing". He was curious about this aspect of shinigami. When he'd first been tested to become one, his defensive and recovery scores had been extremely high. He knew that his empathy and general distrust of people was responsible for the former, but his recovery time surprised even him. Considering that he'd spent the last three years of his life wasting away, he didn't think his body would be so hardy.

The first few pages were full of scientific statistics, showing that the improved function of the previously mentioned systems allowed for faster repair. Increased red blood cell and white blood cell production as well as quick nerve response were described in annoying detail. While all of it was enlightening, it was also terribly boring. He'd always preferred reading fiction to non-fiction.

He turned the page and noticed right away that there was more written in scribbling side notes. The writing was familiar and he placed it instantly as the same that had been on the many papers in Watari's lab. Hisoka wondered how the Gushoshin would react if they found out that the scientist was writing in one of their beloved books.

There was an arrow pointing to a line that said, "energy for healing capabilities could be derived from normal catabolic pathways, as well as what is unused in the now nonfunctional body systems."

Scribbled by the arrow in the margin it said, "which does not adequately cover the energy expenditure used for shinigami healing. The author ignores that the physical form is a representation of the shinigami's soul. Other energy must be derived from the etheric body."

Further down he'd written again, "increased production rate cannot compensate for otherwise fatal wounds. My recent experiment proves this is statistically inaccurate." This was by a paragraph citing a very old experiment on the production of various body components after injury. Hisoka was curious about what experiment Watari had conducted to decide this information false.

As he read more, he'd see other little notes from Watari, most of which disagreed or corrected what was written in the book.

Finally, he turned to "Composition and Appearance", where the author tried to explain how a shinigami could have both a physical and a spirit form, with tedious facts. He was beginning to realize that he wasn't meant to take this book at face value, but make his own viewpoint from it, as well as see Watari's opinion in the matter.

A caption at the bottom of this page wasn't referring to anything at all, but simply stated, "the shinigami body is a mimicry of the persons last living form. Appearance will remain the same, as the individual recalls, and all past chronic ailments will remain. These are not healed, proving that physical functions and healing capabilities do not dictate recovery or basic healing, but proves that healing is determined by the spirit. This also shows that appearance is created via the persons own unconscious will, and can be subject to change."

"But…" Hisoka's eyebrows drew together. Subject to change? Shinigami couldn't change though. It was one of the few things he'd learned right after he'd died. No matter how he wished that he would grow and look older, he would always remain in this slight and abhorrently effeminate body. No one would take him seriously--always treat him like a kid. No one's hair grew, not that he knew of, and no one scarred after an accident. They were unchanging.

After reading further, Hisoka found that Watari finally agreed with something the book said, and there was a messily scrawled, "right!" in the margin. Hisoka read the passage.

"The spirit is composed of energy vibrating at a high frequency--much faster than the energy that composes the atoms of a physical state. This allows the spirit to be mobile as well as be manipulated in and out of a physical form." (2)

So…they were made of energy, and depending on how fast it vibrated, they were in their physical or spirit forms? Watari seemed to agree, but Hisoka didn't quite understand. Watari's words suggested that they controlled this and therefore could actually change themselves, be it for healing, or to actually change how they looked. That just didn't seem possible to him.

"A soul is believed to contain the learned experiences of all its lifetimes. Since a shinigami is a soul in limbo, and not completely passed on, it is unable to have access to these collective memories and wisdom. Hypnosis and other meditative states are said to allow a person glimpses into these past memories. This is all theoretical however, and has yet to be proven."

Hisoka remembered Watari saying something like this before, how a soul was made of energy which could not be created or destroyed, but only changed from one form to another. That could mean from one life to another, or one form to another.

He wondered if that was what Watari was trying to tell him by giving him this book, if he wanted him to understand what he was made of so he could understand how he worked. He'd said that the gift of empathy was bound to one soul through its cycles of reincarnation, energy reserved, but not destroyed.

Ready, he turned to "Basic Abilities". The first paragraphs outlined what had already been established, things like accelerated healing, and possible explanations of teleportation. They explained flying by that same principle.

O-fuda, the standard tool shinigami used, was mentioned as well. The author tried to explain it as something where the intentions of the user were concentrated in the spell by his or her writing on the paper. This eluded to the use of more energy and the will of one's spirit, but the author refused to outright agree with this assumption.

Hisoka was starting to see what Watari was thinking when he'd written those side-notes.

They talked about shinigami, and how they lived in the imaginary world, forced to move into cyberspace since humans stopped believing in them as much. Their world was a mirror of the living world, with creatures that came from every fairytale, legend, and story, living in the region they were 'born' from. It was all very informative, from summoning shiki, to the parasitic type. It made Hisoka even more impressed that his partner controlled twelve shiki, four of which were the most powerful.

Lastly, it differentiated between obtained psychic powers and soul-bound ones. It was just as Watari had told him. Although it wasn't said how the souls were originally chosen, they were given something extra, the abilities that they would be reborn with over and over. As rare as they were to start with, it seemed that individuals with these apparent gifts were often sought after, and slowly the number of souls mysteriously decreased further.

According to the text, souls like these, like Hisoka or Tatsumi, were born with a prominent psychic ability in which they excelled in. Sometimes these 'gifts' were abilities that normal people would never be able to learn, or at least not to the level of these soul-bound ones.

But really, there wasn't a boundary that made it so they could only use that one power. The book claimed all the psychic powers that normal people could spend years trying to learn, could also be attained by someone naturally born with one prominent ability.

"It isn't any one psychic ability that these select few are born with, but instead a capacity to more easily control and manipulate psychic energy. This innate knowledge allows for the mastery of any learned psychic ability as well."

Hisoka couldn't think about ever coming across any powers other than his empathy. When he felt threatened, he released a sort of psychic energy blast, but it was unrefined, and barely what one could consider 'controlled.' He knew that pretty much anyone with an ounce of power could do that. He thought about Tatsumi then, and wondered if he had any other abilities than controlling shadows. If he did, Hisoka had never heard of it.

Watari could bring drawings to life. Was that a learned ability or was he born with it as well? The scientist hadn't put himself in the same category as him and Tatsumi when he'd spoken, and there weren't any notes written in this portion of text to clarify.

"Genetically, certain bloodlines have been proven to be more prone to psychic powers. This form of heredity is not soul-bound, but acts in a similar manner to a lesser degree, creating easier conditions for an individual to attain more abilities. Of these bloodlines, hybrids, between demons and humans, have been known to exhibit excessive psychic energy. This is likely because they are able to utilize both sides of their ancestry."

Hybrids…Hisoka unwillingly thought about Tsuzuki and Muraki's claim that he wasn't entirely human. Something tightened in his chest. No one could be as human as Tsuzuki. No one felt for humanity as much as he did, or was so full of weaknesses like regret and sadness. No one could possess the strength to forgive and the need to protect like he did.

But no one had the power to control twelve of the most powerful shinigami, or to kill a high ranking demon in Ashitote's army and inherit his position, either.

Those amethyst eyes that had brought Tsuzuki so much anguish…

Hisoka refused to believe it. Even if one drop of his blood _wasn't_ human, it would never change what Tsuzuki truly was. Just as he'd reassured him that cold night in Kyoto, he'd do it again in a heart beat.

Tsuzuki was human.

"And what about me?" As much as his parents had called him a monster, and Muraki labeled him a mere puppet, he'd always thought that he was human. Not until after the spell…

His mother and father were both human, and before them, all his ancestors had been human. Even now, he couldn't know what he'd meant when he'd said 'tainted.' Yatanokami had been in their blood, in there cells, and perhaps…deeper. How much did it take to taint? What did his hair, his eyes, mean?

It couldn't be much. He had been weak as a child, weak in Muraki's arms, and weak when he'd died.

Hisoka frowned sourly. He was supposed to be distracting himself, but lately he'd been failing more and more at this.

Silently, he finished reading the rest of the section, before closing the large book. Pushing it to the side, he picked up the next one, _Principal Treaties and Proclamations_, and dutifully opened it. He still had plenty of time before work, and plenty of time to have his questions answered only for new ones to form.

qpqpqpqpqp

Hisoka adjusted the bag over his shoulder, so that the weight of the books inside wouldn't make it slide down his arm. Carefully he balanced two mugs of coffee in one hand and used the other to open the door to the break room. It was still early in the work day, but most everyone seemed to be in. Tsuzuki hadn't arrived yet, but Hisoka knew that he could be in as late as noon on his worst days.

Feeling a little self-conscious about what he was about to do, Hisoka walked silently down the main hall towards Watari's lab. Maybe the coffee was too much? But it would be even more awkward to show up with no reason to be there at all. Not that he should really need an excuse, but…

Resituating the mugs again, so he wouldn't spill them, he stopped at the lab door. He stood there nervously, and hesitated before giving the door a quick tap with his knuckles.

There came a shout. "It's open!"

Watari was leaning over one of the lab stations, now absent of paper stacks, and soldering some wires together. Hisoka walked over and set the two mugs on the table edge, before removing his book bag.

"I brought some coffee." Hisoka glanced at Watari's coffee pot, and as he'd expected, it was already empty. Good.

"I see that," Watari replied, putting his soldering iron back on its stand. He straightened up and smiled. "You look better today. Did that prescription help?"

Hisoka nodded, and claimed one of the mugs for himself. He waited for Watari to take a sip of his own before speaking. "I had time to read some of the books you loaned me."

"Did you find them useful?"

Hisoka frowned. "I suppose. I'm not sure I understood some of your notes in _Anatomy of a Shinigami._"

Watari sat down, and Hisoka found his own chair. "The author of that one was my predecessor. This lab--a more primitive version-- used belonged to him. I admired his work when I first became a shinigami. It sparked my interest in chemistry." Watari motioned at the device he'd been working on. "When I was alive I was a mechanical engineer. It was quite the switch in fields."

Hisoka wondered if that was why Watari blew up half of what he worked on. "You criticized most of what he'd written." It seemed odd if the author was his claimed idol.

Watari grinned ruefully. "Since I became a shinigami there have been a lot of advances in science and technology. He was bound not to get everything right. Besides, I'm sure that you have noticed that the things shinigami face every day aren't exactly bound by the laws of human science."

"That is what I was thinking," Hisoka confessed. "We are already dead. Doesn't that make everything else sort of a moot point?"

Watari laughed. "It is natural to be curious about one's existence, but maybe that quality is more pronounced in scientists."

"You said…," Hisoka couldn't stop himself from asking, "that our appearance was made by our will. How could that be possible?"

"Your soul remembers everything. When most people die, they assume the form they had closest to their death, but there have been recorded instances where a person has been in a vegetative state years before their death, and when they arrive in Meifu, they look like there younger selves. That must mean that we take on the appearance of what we are most used to seeing ourselves as."

"So it isn't changeable?"

Hisoka could feel the weighty pause after his question. "If we are subconsciously creating our appearance as shinigami…then it would stand to reason that we could change it. Some shift in our energy or will…something like what shape shifters employ." Watari sighed. "However it is only a theory. I've never been successful. I even thought that perhaps a certain combination of chemicals could catalyze a change, but my sex change potion has never worked."

He was surprised to hear Watari speak so seriously about his potion. He'd always thought…that is was a bit of a joke. Hisoka didn't have the courage to inquire into Watari's motives to want to be a woman.

"But we do change ourselves all the time. Shinigami healing is almost instantaneous. When we shift between human and spirit form, we are manipulating our energy as well. If we could learn how to do that on a more conscious level, then the possibilities would be limitless!"

"Maybe it just doesn't work that way," Hisoka said grimly.

"Once, after one of my major experiments had failed again, I chopped off all my hair." Watari lined his hand up to the top of his shoulders. "It was this short. I looked ridiculous, and instantly regretted it. I'm sure you've noticed that your hair doesn't get longer, so I assumed that I was going to look horrible for the rest of eternity."

Hisoka raised his eyebrows in amusement. "And?"

"I spent the whole night trying to make a hair regeneration potion and ended up falling asleep somewhere around four in the morning. I woke up, and my hair was back to normal! I cut a little piece off, and before my very eyes it grew back to his original length! I was subconsciously maintaining my appearance, not for healing, but for a completely superficial thing like hair!" Watari had a pleased look on his face like it was a good memory. "I was ready to give up, but that moment encouraged me to keep working hard."

Watari brushed his hair back from his face. "Also, I'm sure you've noticed that shinigami still get small ailments now and again. Chief Konoe throws his back out every once in a while, something you'd think we could just heal from or avoid altogether, but it always happens right when the division is at its busiest."

"…So because he doesn't want to be here, his healing capability doesn't work?"

"Bon, I think that everything, from how we look, heal, when we feel sick, anything related to our physical form, is all manifested from our spirit."

Hisoka thought for a moment, before asking, "so then…a headache?"

"Wouldn't be cured by some aspirin." A smirk. "For a shinigami to get a headache, it means that there is something going on with the spirit. This could be a fluctuation in energy, or great emotional stress. Unlike a human, where energy levels are mostly dictated by the chemical processes in the body, so that medications will have some effect, a shinigami's body is more of a front than the real thing."

Hisoka huffed. "Then why did you give me those pills yesterday?"

"Well if you _think_ something is going to work, then there is a chance it might work. Besides, a shinigami's body does have some functions like a human's, mind you because we make it that way, so at high enough dosages a medicine might work. Healing and the speed of other processes cause the body to counteract the medicine faster though."

"So if I took more, then--"

"It is a band aid. It won't fix the actual problem."

He would take anything if he was told it get rid of his almost incessant headaches. Being told, 'it is all with the power of your mind!' didn't help much. He frowned. "So in other words I should just live with it?"

"No, if you are under stress and your empathy is still returning, then your energy levels are just under strain. You could try some meditative exercises."

"Meditate?" He doubted it would help, but he figured there wasn't much point in whining about his lack of feasible options.

"Yes."

"Fine." He decided to change the subject. "I read about that treaty in _Principal Treaties and Proclamations_. You know, the one you spoke about before. It was almost half the book."

"Extremely long winded bureaucracy at its best."

"It seemed to favor the Demon World…There was hardly anything put into place to protect Chijou."

"There had to be enough incentives for Ashitote to actually sign the deal. At the time, Meifu was definitely stronger, but demons were reeking havoc on Chijou, and it seemed a matter of time before Demon World gained control there and gained enough power to challenge even Meifu. Also, Gensoukai was in a war of its own, causing Meifu to be especially vulnerable. So, Enma said that in exchange for no more interference in demon contracts, demons would remain in there own world unless summoned."

"So it was to keep Demon World from becoming stronger than Meifu?"

"Exactly. It doesn't help people who are stupid enough to summon a demon, or people who end up in the wrong circumstances and get tangled up with a demon. Anyway, there are enough rogue demons that ignore the treaty, and there is very little control to enforce it."

"Like Yatonokami or Watanokami?"

"After the treaty was signed, and Ashitote ordered his troops to return to Demon World, there were those who had grown accustomed to their posh lifestyle in the Human World, and deserted the army."

On a grand scale, the treaty worked, but he couldn't help but think of all the people that were left defenseless and neglected by it. _He'd_ even been taken advantage of, and there was no retribution for him. Nothing could be done, and while he could now see why, it still didn't feel right.

"But those souls that were sacrificed hadn't made a pact with Watanokami."

"No, the girl did. That means she would be responsible for the lost souls. Who knows where she is now. Either way, there aren't any grounds nor the opportunity to go after the demon."

Hisoka pressed his fingers to the side of his head, grimacing, but trying to ignore the slight pain. "I wished none of it had happened. Things were bad enough before--with Kyoto."

"Things might seem bad, but you two have definitely grown."

Hisoka wondered where Watari was seeing this. He didn't feel like he'd made any progress at all. He was constantly confused, and he hadn't been able to deal with anything important in his life. It was almost like for every step he took forward, he was thrown back three.

"I wish I were stronger."

"I'd say you are already pretty strong. You've sure lived through a lot, and you aren't completely bonkers yet."

Hisoka let out a small laugh. "Thanks."

"Did you get a chance to start on the third book?"

Hisoka shook his head. By the time he'd finished reading the long-winded treaty, his eyes had hurt, and it was close to work hours. He'd picked up the smaller leather book, and looked past its cover. He'd been surprised to see that the first page had a short inscription. It was a man's journal.

The pages were yellowed and the edges worn. The whole book was filled with tiny precise writing. He'd had a feeling that it was something he should read more thoroughly than the other texts. He'd have to take his time.

"That little gem was hidden in the back log of the library. It isn't even in the system. You have to know about it to find it," Watari told him informatively.

"Then how did you know about it?"

Watari chuckled. "I have my ways." He drank more of his coffee before continuing. "I thought you would like to read about soul-bound powers from a more reliable source than some stuffy clinical text. Although…if you ever want more information, you could always ask Tatsumi. From what I know, he had a teacher, a Kangetsukai like him, who taught him everything he knows."

Hisoka doubted he would be asking Tatsumi any time soon. Although he respected the secretary deeply, he was also somewhat intimidated by him. Deciding to talk to Watari had been awkward enough. Approaching Tatsumi would be beyond whatever courage he could summon.

"What happened to his teacher?"

"Hmm, I'm not sure. I think he might still be working for the ministry, but I've never met him. You'd have to ask Tatsumi."

Hisoka wished that he knew an empath that could help teach him how to better control his abilities, but guessed that it was something he would have to figure out on his own.

"Thanks for your time," Hisoka said politely. "I have to get back to work. I'll be sure to read the journal when I can."

"No problem." Watari moved to return to what he was previously working on, but said one last thing as Hisoka made towards the door. "But if you really want to thank me, try talking to Tsuzuki. He seemed pretty depressed yesterday. Throw him a bone?"

Hisoka felt a little ashamed that Watari had to ask him to talk to his own partner. "I'll try," he replied quietly before leaving the lab. It would be hard talking to Tsuzuki again after the way he'd acted. It would be like he was admitting that he was wrong. In some ways he was, but he was still convinced that at least part of it was Tsuzuki's fault.

Hisoka sighed. Did it really matter though? Being angry wouldn't change what had happened, and he didn't _want_ to be angry at Tsuzuki anymore. It was bad enough feeling useless and upset without feeling Tsuzuki feel that way too.

Still, he wasn't good at this sort of thing. Letting go of grudges was difficult, and making the first step towards forgiveness was even harder. He didn't want to talk about what had happened. He didn't want to think about his family or the spell. He just…wanted everything to go back to normal.

And that wasn't going to happen unless he started speaking to Tsuzuki again.

Hisoka returned to their shared office, all the while trying to gather up his conviction. He paused at the door, already sensing the familiar emotions of his partner. Tsuzuki was just on the other side of the door, and Hisoka swallowed thickly.

All at once, thoughts of that dream came back to him, and he flushed in embarrassment and guilt. His hand was shaking before the door knob. How could he face Tsuzuki with thoughts like these? How could he look him straight in the eyes when he kept thinking about the _kissing _and then the whole _Muraki thing_.

His palms began to sweat as well.

But it wasn't related was it? His dream had nothing to do with making Tsuzuki feel less depressed. It had nothing to do with stopping those heavy and repressed emotions he was sensing now.

It wasn't Tsuzuki's fault.

No, it was _his_.

qpqpqpqpqp

Tsuzuki was officially a failure. He didn't even need to open his eyes to know that he'd slept through his alarm clock (he'd had to dig one out of his coat closet a few weeks prior). His limbs felt heavy, and his face was buried so deeply into his pillow that is was wet with drool. Grumbling, he flopped onto his side, and blinked warily.

He was _very_ late.

Well…it didn't really matter now, did it? Hisoka was already mad at him. Coming in on time, or a little early, wasn't going to improve things. It was wasted effort. Tsuzuki frowned slightly.

He'd tried and tried to come up with some way to fix the situation. There had to be a way he could help…but if Hisoka really hated him now…

He didn't like thinking like that. He didn't want to give up. Trying at least gave him some hope for the situation… Yesterday had been miserable. Sharing the office with an explosive Hisoka was nerve-wracking, but it was better that being without the blond at all. He'd heard from Tatsumi that Watari had sent him home to rest. It was great news…but it left Tsuzuki alone with his thoughts for the rest of the day. He didn't like being left with his thoughts, never had, so he'd gone drinking instead.

Tsuzuki fretted over things late into the night. He couldn't stop thinking about the look in Hisoka's eyes, like he was wildly trying to suppress raw emotions, or how his knuckles had turned white around the file he'd been reading. He was hurt, and it was Tsuzuki's fault. He couldn't be enough for Hisoka. He couldn't protect him from pain or be his support afterwards. He wasn't wanted.

Tsuzuki didn't know what to do.

So he did the only thing he _could_ do, and ordered another drink. He didn't know for how long he sat at that bar, but he'd definitely had a hard time getting home, and he could only vaguely remember getting undressed for bed.

His worry had kept him up so late, that by the time he'd fallen asleep, he'd apparently exhausted himself to the point that an alarm wasn't going to suffice. Resigned, he drew himself up off the bed and yawned. Shuffling across his room, he gathered his usual suit and sluggishly dressed.

Work didn't seem appealing at all. Even with his coveted title as 'Boa Constrictor,' he was sporting a pretty harsh headache. He'd had worse hangovers before, but his bottomed-out enthusiasm made this one feel particularly evil. The lights were too bright, his mouth tasted funny, and he was still feeling sad.

That was why the first stop Tsuzuki made when he arrived at the office was to the break room. For ten whole minutes he stared pitifully at the empty pastry tray, wondering how life could be this cruel. Just as was his luck, when he decided to get a cup of coffee at the very least, he realized that the pot was nearly empty. It had the one centimeter worth of liquid that was not enough to fill a cup, but enough that the last person hadn't started a new pot.

Tummy grumbling, Tsuzuki knew he had to find a way to fill it. Forlorn, he rummaged through the small cupboard over the counter, hoping that by some merciful fate there would be something edible inside. His search came up with a half empty tin of Altoids; he didn't dare eat them in case they were remnants of one of Watari's past experiments.

There was no hope left.

_Very_ hungry and _very_ depressed, Tsuzuki trudged from the foodless break room.

The office was empty when he got there, and if it wasn't for the files arranged on his partner's desk, and his computer being turned on, Tsuzuki would have thought that Hisoka was staying home today too. He was both happy that he wouldn't have to be alone, and nervous that Hisoka would be in an even worse disposition than before. A lot of bad things had happened after all, and he'd be perfectly justified in being upset…but Tsuzuki missed the _old_ Hisoka.

Tsuzuki slumped down at his desk, tipped his head back, and closed his eyes.

This wasn't how he'd wanted it to be. When he'd decided to tell Hisoka his feelings, he'd been afraid of being turned away, but in the back of his mind he'd still held a hope that Hisoka would return his feelings. Obviously, enough had happened in the younger shinigami's life that it was a slim chance… His family had been horrible to him, and Muraki had left him even more jaded.

After Kyoto, this hope had grown, and for the first time he'd begun to think about his future...with Hisoka. After all, Hisoka wanted to stay with him. He wouldn't have to be alone ever again.

But now he could have ruined it all.

Always…always he managed to destroy things. Whenever he revealed his true feelings…things would go wrong. He should have known that someone as wonderful as Hisoka wasn't meant to be with him.

Tsuzuki's thoughts darkened.

It had been the same way with Tatsumi. Things had been so confusing back then, when he could never escape his thoughts or memories, and everything had tormented him. He hadn't been nearly as good at hiding it as he was now. Tatsumi had been good to him. He couldn't be sure where his feelings had come from. At the time he'd been sure they were genuine, but now, clouded with time, he wasn't sure if it wasn't just his need to hold onto someone. Tatsumi had been almost _too_ good to him.

It had been a struggle to be together. Tatsumi hated to see him upset, and Tsuzuki couldn't be anything but. Tsuzuki's love had only been a burden to Tatsumi. It had hurt him. He was always hurting those he cared about.

Their partnership hadn't lasted long, and what little of it that could be called a relationship, had ended at the same time.

He should have learned. After all, even when he was alive… Tsuzuki's hand clenched reflexively in his shirt, a sharp pain darting through his chest. His feelings could only harm other people. It always ended after, 'I love you.'

Now Hisoka hated him.

It wouldn't be long before he too was walking out of his life.

The office door opened quietly, still shocking him in the silence, and Tsuzuki's eyes instantly flew open. Then there, like he'd appeared out of Tsuzuki's thoughts, was Hisoka. His face was unreadable, a cup of coffee clutched tightly in his hand.

"Good morning," Tsuzuki forced out with false cheer. It was harder to pull off than usual. It was like there was a timer counting down inside his head now, and he wanted to withdraw back into some sort of protective shell, so he wouldn't have to feel the full pain of when his time was up.

Hisoka walked slowly to his own desk and sat down. It was a very conscious silence. Tsuzuki was so fully prepared to be ignored again, that when Hisoka spoke, he was convinced it was his thoughts starting up again. "You were late today."

It took a minute for the words to sink in, and another for him to realize he should be coming up with a response. He couldn't help but think, 'is he mad at that too?' Tsuzuki wanted to cry, the confusion and futility of the situation, finally making him want to crack. Hadn't coming in on time not had any sort of affect on their overwrought relationship? Just when he was weak enough to slip up, Hisoka was ready to make it into another reason to hate him?

"Yeah…I slept though my alarm," he said dimly.

There was silence, and Hisoka took sips from his coffee. Tsuzuki couldn't bring himself to feel jealous that he had some. He did notice however, that Hisoka hadn't started working on any reports yet. Tsuzuki swallowed and added on to fill the uncomfortable stillness, "there was no more coffee or donuts left in the break room either…"

Hisoka paused, his mug pressed to his lips. "You could have made a new pot." The words were dry with little or no emotion to them, but that also meant that they didn't carry the more recent derisive tone he was used to.

Was this a conversation? It was the most words that they had exchanged without yelling since the Kamakura case had began. Tsuzuki nervously wetted his lips, and allowed a whiny note to enter his voice. "But I didn't _want _to, and now I'm soooo _hungry_!" Tsuzuki waited with bated breath for Hisoka's reaction.

Another long tortuous pause ensued, before Hisoka said evenly, "well, it is almost noon. If Tatsumi doesn't catch us, we can go out to lunch."

'We,' as in the both of them! Tsuzuki beamed, the worry in the pit of his stomach lifting like a dirty stain being washed out. Hisoka wanted to have lunch with him! Together! Possibly even speaking! "Can we have an _early_ lunch, 'Soka?"

Hisoka huffed, a small smile just visible on his lips. "Idiot! At least _try_ to get some work done first!"

For the first time in weeks, Tsuzuki felt happiness and hope bloom in his chest. "Please?!" They might just be alright. Hisoka was talking to him again, and they had to be alright.

AN: Sorry I was so slow-poke about updating. I wanted to write ahead so I waited until I had more chapters done before posting. On my computer I am currently in chapter five.

I also got a job, quit my job, got a new job, and registered for classes in the time since the first chapter. Man am I busy girl. Tonight is the second night of Kumori-con (I'm posting this from a hotel of crazy lesbians) so I'm super excited but taking the time to post this for you guys.

Please review to help me write faster!

(1) The beginning of this dream occurred in volume nine of Descendants of Darkness. There are many of the same flower drawn throughout the scene, and I easily recognized them because I recently watch a movie which featured them and their lore. (_Spider Lilies _is a lesbian movie that seems like a crazy acid trip to me). Lycoris aurea (the red ones are Lycoris Radiata): The golden flower is native to the northeastern coast of Taiwan. Local people call it the spider lily. Japanese legend has it that spider lilies line the path to hell, poisoning the memories of all who smell their scent, forming a bridge between the living and the dead.

(2) This is actually from String theory also known as M-theory. It is detailed in the book and Nova special, The Elegant Universe. In summary, quantum mechanics and general relativity mathematically disprove each other (proving that one or both formulas are incorrect). String Theory suggests that smaller than quarks (the particles that make up protons and neutrons in an atom) are vibrating strings (actually loops) of energy. Depending on the frequency at which the strings vibrate/oscillate, it makes up a different type of matter (I'm thinking different elements on the periodic table since we are talking at the atomic level). There is a lot more to this theory but this is the basics. If you are interested in more about this (and really you should learn more. It is my favorite theory of all time) you should read the book or watch the special. It pretty much resolves the issue of incompatibility between quantum mechanics and general relativity.


	3. Chapter 3

This is dedicated to Walkerminion, who is wonderful and broke my writer's block.

**Chapter 3**

Tsuzuki set a large mug of coffee down in front of his partner. Hisoka was slumped over his desk, face planted firmly in his folded arms. "Headache or not enough sleep?" Tsuzuki asked softly in case it was the former.

Hisoka looked up, eyes instantly locking onto the offered coffee. He slid it closer and took a careful sip. Once, Tsuzuki had given him coffee the way he fixed it, not understanding how the blond could like it black, and since then Hisoka had been cautious of anything he was offered.

"Both."

Tsuzuki leaned against his partners desk. "Why don't you take something? Watari gave you stronger medicine, didn't he?"

"I took one this morning. If I take anymore I'll fall asleep." Tsuzuki thought that Hisoka already looked ready to pass out.

"But you _need_ more sleep."

"Nn." Hisoka turned his face back into his arms. What he said next came muffled. "It…gives me funny dreams."

Funny dreams? He wanted to ask what sort of dreams would cause him to avoid sleep altogether. Since the day after Hisoka read the Kamakura file, things had more or less smoothed over. They at least talked now, and Hisoka didn't get angry with him as much. Still, they hadn't talked about anything that had happened, and it was like a specter following everything they did.

Tsuzuki was afraid to bring it up. What if he upset Hisoka again? Now things were back to normal, even if it was a false sort of calm, and he didn't want to ruin it. He wouldn't pry too much, even if he was curious.

He knew all too well after all, about what sorts of nightmares the younger shinigami was prone to. It was a sensitive subject. He would just have to wait until Hisoka felt ready to talk about it.

"Why don't you take it easy today? You shouldn't push yourself too hard if you aren't feeling well."

"Nn." Hisoka pulled himself up, and dragged some paperwork towards him. Tsuzuki sighed in exasperation. He was so stubborn! Tsuzuki had no idea how the younger shinigami could manage to work looking like that, when he couldn't even get himself to concentrate on papers for more than two seconds feeling perfectly fine.

The last few days had been just like that. While everything was now perfect on the surface, his nerves were still constantly on end, as if waiting for inevitable failure. Perhaps that was a rather pessimistic view of things, but he'd had enough experience with being let down by people to know that tense situations didn't just magically fix themselves. This could just be the metaphorical eye of the storm.

That meant he still had a way to go, and it wouldn't be truly over until Hisoka allowed himself to talk about everything that had happened. The word Kamakura alone would cause his partner to falter, and the case was being readily swept under the rug.

Still, nothing but time could help things, and he would have to deal with these discomforting feelings until then.

A knock at the door interrupted Tsuzuki's thoughts, and he turned his head just as it opened. Watari peeked in, blond curls dangling past the door jam. "There will be a meeting in five! Last one there is a rotten egg!" He disappeared the next second, his hair barely making it out of the way before the door shut.

"That is short notice," Tsuzuki said scratching his head. "Do you have any idea what it is about?"

Hisoka shoved off from his desk and stood up. Tsuzuki noticed a slight sway in his steps that he didn't like. "Well it won't be a general meeting. We would have been told ahead of time. Besides, other than Watari, we are the only sector that isn't out on a case," Hisoka replied tiredly.

"Hmm."

A few minutes later they ended up in the small conference room, sitting opposite of Watari, around a rectangular table. Tatsumi was sitting at the head of the table, a plain and unassuming folder in front of him. Tsuzuki could detect a hint of tension before Tatsumi spoke, and he was already bracing himself. "We have a case in your area that needs investigating." His cerulean gaze swept over them, lingering on Hisoka, as if silently questioning the decision.

Tsuzuki also had doubts. Contrary to what Tsuzuki had been hoping for, Hisoka seemed to be gradually getting worse instead of better. How was he expected to investigate with his empathy acting up? If his suspicions were correct, the teen also couldn't be getting near enough sleep to be functioning at full capacity. It would be dangerous to go out into the field like that.

"Alright," Hisoka said to his left.

Tsuzuki startled and turned, only to see a determined sharpness to his partner's eyes. He wouldn't be backing down…

It _was_ their responsibility… Maybe if Hisoka at least got enough sleep, then it would help with his headaches. Tsuzuki quickly surmised that if they were on a case together he could keep an eye on Hisoka day and night, and perhaps get him to sleep more. It sounded like a plan.

"What is the case?" Tsuzuki added in support.

Tatsumi cleared his throat. "Very well. Watari-san?"

003 Hooted cheerfully from her owner's shoulder as if proud to present the information. "There has been an increase in missing persons from the Fukuoka prefecture, concentrated in Fukuoka City."

Tsuzuki almost groaned out loud. He looked at Hisoka once again to see that he'd paled. Lovely. Of course they would send them to the largest city in Kyushu during one of the hottest and most humid times of year. This had to be a joke.

"Obviously, in a metropolitan city missing case reports are bound to be high. I think the issue has been overlooked by the local police. However, this morning two of these missing persons were found dead. Their souls weren't received in Meifu, hence the need for you two." Watari waved the conversation back in Tatsumi's direction.

Opening the folder in front of him, he laid out several crime scene photos, each eight by ten. "Both of these woman, Suetsugu-san and Honda-san, were reported missing more that a month apart. They also came from different cities. At four this morning their bodies were found within several feet of each other. There is no news from the coroner yet on a cause of death."

Tsuzuki took the photos, and examined them. The women were young, at the most in their early twenties. One was more homely, the second slightly more attractive. Nothing about them seemed remarkable, and he couldn't see anything in the photos that would give him a clue as to why they'd gone missing and then been found dead together. He couldn't even see any outward trauma on their bodies.

Apart from their attire…

Hisoka was staring at the photos intently as well, and he spoke before Tsuzuki could voice his own thought. "They are wearing hospital gowns…"

"I noticed that too," Watari chimed in. "Neither Suetsugu-san or Honda-san were sick when they went missing, and so far no hospital has reported losing two patients."

"When are we to start?" Hisoka asked coolly, getting all the information that he needed.

Tsuzuki wondered if he was really so calm. The setting alone would make this mission an un-enjoyable ordeal. Sure, Tsuzuki liked big cities, but Hisoka would probably suffocate. Hopefully Tatsumi wouldn't send them to a slum of a hotel. At the very least he demanded a working air conditioner so they didn't have the heat to contend with as well. Even mild temperatures could floor Hisoka when he was in full health.

"Arrangements for your stay have already been made, so you can go as soon as you are packed," Tatsumi stated.

"And as soon as _I _get wind of the autopsy results I'll get them to you!" Watari added.

"I'll be entrusting you to keep to the budget," Tatsumi said sternly as he handed Hisoka the money book. "Keep close tabs on your partner's spending."

"Hey! Why does Hisoka get all the money?!" Tsuzuki complained indignantly.

"You'd spend it in a day, idiot," Hisoka said briskly.

"So mean…"

Tatsumi collected the crime scene photos, and put them in the case folder. He handed this to Hisoka as well. "The details are in there. The bodies have already been removed so when police presence has died down you can visit the crime scene. I'll be expecting you to check in every day and report on your progress."

"Is that all?"

"Yes, I believe that is all for now."

Tsuzuki and Hisoka both made to leave, but the purple-eyed shinigami lagged purposefully behind. As soon as Hisoka was out of the room, he quickly whipped around, and said worriedly, "Hisoka hasn't been feeling well. His empathy-- Fukuoka of all places!"

Tatsumi sighed, and gave a quick side-long glace towards Watari. "I'm aware of Kurosaki-kun's condition. However, he has to get back in the field eventually. _Someone_ needs to take this case." The way he said it, Tsuzuki knew he was making it clear that he wouldn't be taking another case for them. It had been over a month since their last case…There wasn't much he could do to get them out of this one.

"What if he can't handle it?"

"You won't know unless you try. Ease back into things, and keep an eye on him. If worse comes to worse, come back here."

Watari smiled sympathetically. "He's a tough kid, Tsuzuki. A case might be just the thing he needs to take his mind off things," he said suggestively.

Tsuzuki frowned. "I hope so." Reluctantly he nodded and left the conference room. It wasn't like he could mope too much about it. Ultimately it was Hisoka who held those rights.

Hisoka was already in their office when he got there, gathering his jacket and restacking the papers he'd been working on earlier. He was more alert now, and focused on the job at hand. Tsuzuki watched with minor surprise, having expected a bit more of an outcry from the same person who had continually pointed out how much he hated the heat when they'd gone to Okinawa.

Hisoka turned and locked eyes with him. "I'll be fine," he said, but is was more reassuring than defensive. He wondered if he was projecting his feelings too much. It was almost like Hisoka had read his mind. He pushed his barriers up higher to spare his partner any annoyance.

"At least…it's an excuse to get out of the office."

Hisoka gave him an odd look but chose to ignore whatever was bothering him. "We can meet in an hour. That should be enough time to pack."

"I have to water my garden if I'm going to be gone," Tsuzuki interjected.

Hisoka's lips twitched but he couldn't tell if it was a forced down smile or frown. "Then I'll come to your apartment when I'm done."

"Ok!" His gaze turned hopeful. "Can we eat after that?"

"After we check into the hotel."

Tsuzuki wilted a little. He was hungry now. Oh well, he could snack on something as he packed. Hisoka picked up the case folder and walked out without saying any more. Tsuzuki grabbed his trench coat and draped it over his arm.

He doubted today would be any fun.

qpqpqpqp

Tsuzuki pressed a cookie into his mouth, and then turned on the hose. The air was warm as it rustled though his garden. He directed the flow of water out over his flower beds, watching as the sunlight caught through the spray, creating little rainbows that only he could see.

Soon it smelled like moist earth and his late blooming Dancing Geisha. His garden was beautiful--his one pride and joy. The flowers came in many vibrant colors and sizes, complementing their bedmates. He even had a small patch for growing some vegetables.

This was his special place. Even during the winter something would be growing, and he could come out here to relax. It reminded him of good things like hope and caring. Even his hands, which were stained with blood, could bring forth life. Their petals didn't wither under his touch. Working until he was covered in dirt and sweat, made him feel human, like the humility of the work could prove that he wasn't anything more.

Being in his garden reminded him of good memories, things left clean and wholesome, which he could reflect back upon without the usual pain of remembrance. Tsuzuki closed his eyes for a moment and breathed deeply. His sister had taught him how to tend to a garden, her green thumb far outstripping his. They used to spend hours outside in the sun, trowels in hand. He sighed, letting the memory slip away before turning off the hose.

He wrapped it around its stand, and sat down on the steps to the back porch. He picked up his package of cookies and popped another one in his mouth.

His landlady was a sweet old woman, so if their case lasted longer than a few days and the garden began to dry out, she would water it for him. He often shared what he grew with his landlords, and it kept them on good terms even when he came behind on his rent now and again. Tsuzuki had his suspicions though, that no matter how much Tatsumi diverted his paychecks towards reconstruction costs, he made sure that Tsuzuki took enough home to pay his rent and electricity.

Two more cookies passed through his lips.

The morning glories were beginning to curl as the sun rose higher in the sky, but Tsuzuki knew that their blue faces were beautiful when they opened in the morning. His Heliotropes were flowering as well, following the path of the same sun as it passed through the sky. Tsuzuki smiled wistfully. In the language of flowers, Heliotropes represented devotion.

"I'd give _him_ a whole bunch…"

Then he would add snowdrops, delicate and symbolizing hope. That was what Hisoka was after all; his hope after being alone for so long. They would match Hisoka's beauty perfectly. A dreamy expression crossed Tsuzuki's face at the image he summoned up. If only they bloomed this late in the year…

There were always sunflowers though. He had some growing along the back fence, stems tall and thick. A sunflower meant adoration. There could be nothing better to show his feelings than pure love.

But he doubted that Hisoka would appreciate receiving a bouquet of flowers, like a girl he would say, nor would he probably understand their significance. Besides, he'd already said those words out loud, and that was as obvious as he could be. Flowers wouldn't change Hisoka's feelings…if only he knew what those were.

"What are you still doing out here?" Hisoka's smooth voice asked behind him. He was standing in the back doorway, a curious expression on his face.

"Just admiring," he replied. The leaves and petals of his plants were glistening now, water drops clinging to them.

Hisoka took a few steps forward so that he could get a clear view of the entire garden. This would be the first time he'd seen it. Hisoka had only been to his apartment a couple of times, usually only for a moment or so, and never out to the garden. Tsuzuki made the trip to Hisoka's apartment much more frequently.

Emerald eyes revolved slowly, taking in the scene. "Your garden…" he murmured. He seemed stunned, brow crinkling in deep thought. "It's just like how you described--"

Tsuzuki was surprised. It was the first time Hisoka had said anything remotely related to what had happened under the spell. He knew for sure that the only time he'd told his partner about his garden in detail had been during their long afternoons in the gardens of Kurosaki estate.

Hisoka himself seemed taken aback, and quickly changed the subject. "Have you packed yet?"

"Yeah," Tsuzuki looked up at him, eyes still soft with his lingering thoughts.

Hisoka looked away, cheeks gaining the softest red hue.

"Did you knock? I didn't hear…"

Hisoka huffed, giving him a look. "Of course I knocked. You didn't answer and the door was unlocked. You really should be more careful…"

Tsuzuki stood up, taking his package of cookies with him, and chuckled as he proceeded to walk inside. "There isn't anything to worry about here in Meifu. Besides, who would want to steal anything from _me_?"

If he thought about it, he hadn't bought anything new for years. His last purchase had been a new microwave when he'd accidentally blown up the last one. That cooking experiment hadn't gone well…

Hisoka followed him through the apartment, back to the older shinigami's bedroom. There on his futon was a duffle bag. It never took long for him to pack, but this time, he'd been a bit more thoughtful about what he'd be bringing. In preparation for the worse case scenario, there was a small electric fan packed under his socks, and he had a couple ice packs hidden in a side pocket.

He slung the bag over his shoulder, and went to the front entry, where he spotted Hisoka's own bag. "Do we have a designated point to teleport to?"

"No. It will be busy everywhere. It would be best to teleport in spirit form and then fly down into the street." Hisoka picked up his bag and stepped out the door.

Just to humor him, Tsuzuki locked the door, before they teleported together. When they reappeared, the city was vast and sprawled out beneath them. The streets were bustling with cars and people alike, a general hum of life and noise floating up at them. From above, the sun was generating its own beat. In spirit form he could feel the faint warmth, but knew that once they became solid, it would be a more tangible force to be reckoned with.

Hisoka was besides him, and they descended slowly into an alley behind one of the smaller restaurants. Hisoka seemed to know where they were and how to get to their destination from there. As soon as they landed, he assumed human form and guided them out of the alley.

"It should only be a block from here," he said confidently. They didn't dare walk against the throng of people on the street, but instead circled around the block until the building of their hotel came into view. From the outside he could already tell it was going to be the seedy sort. It was crammed in the nook between two much larger buildings. The paint was peeling, and some of the lights in the sign were blown out. It looked like a by the hour hotel, and he frowned.

Glancing at Hisoka though, it was obvious that the blond was less concerned with the state of their hotel, and more worried about getting out of the heat and away from the crowds of people.

When they walked into the hotel, a fat man was seated at the front desk, flipping through a rumpled magazine. A fan was buzzing on the file cabinet next to him, just managing to stir the stagnant air. He looked up when they entered, letting his disturbingly knowing gaze pass over the new arrivals. Tsuzuki was suddenly very aware of what he might be thinking seeing a man wearing a business suit accompanied by a teenager of Hisoka's looks who was dressed casually.

Hisoka gritted his teeth, picking up on the mans thoughts, and made a show of dropping their luggage to the floor by the desk. The man lost some of his smugness at the sight of the luggage, a show that they weren't interest in just a brief stop at the hotel.

"We have a room reserved. Kurosaki and Tsuzuki," Hisoka said stiffly.

The man tossed down his magazine, giving Tsuzuki the chance to see a lewd picture of a woman with large breasts on the cover, before he flipped open his reservation book. "Yeah, got you here," the man said lazily as if uninterested in his job. He swiveled his chair around so that he could reach for a key hanging on one of the many hooks on the wall behind the desk. "Two doubles. Room 216."

Hisoka clenched his fists at his sides, making it clear that he didn't want to get any closer to the man or any of his feelings. Tsuzuki took the key instead. "Thank you," he said without meaning it.

They quickly picked up their luggage again and took a flight of stairs to the second floor. There was no elevator.

"This is it." Unlocking the door, he opened it with a bit of reserve. Sadly, it was about what he'd expected. The room was small, just fitting their two beds and a mini fridge for cheap champagne between. At the far end of the room was a small attached bathroom. Everything was some shade of brown, probably to disguise any stains, and smelled like old moth balls. He couldn't spot an air conditioner.

Hisoka pushed past him and dumped his luggage by his chosen bed. In two seconds he'd pushed open the room's only window with a loud scraping sound. With how humid it was outside, Tsuzuki wasn't sure if it helped any.

Resigned, he closed the door behind him and took the vacant bed. He flopped down onto the mattress wincing at how hard it felt. "This sucks," he said before he was even aware of himself.

Hisoka gave him a look that stated, 'well that is obvious, idiot.'

"The hotels must be expensive in this area, or full. We are probably lucky to get this much out of Tatsumi-san."

He was most likely right. The only line that the secretary had learned not to cross was to assign them a room with a single bed. No matter how big, Hisoka had refused to share it with him. Of course that had still been early in their partnership. Now…Tsuzuki wondered if he would be pushed away so quickly. Memories of their last night in a hotel together, Hisoka curled up next to him, invaded his thoughts. From the color that instantly flared into Hisoka's cheeks, he knew that he was thinking too loudly.

"Why don't we go somewhere for lunch, and review the file?" It would be better than sitting in this stuffy hotel room that was for sure, and his tummy was still hungry for something.

"Alright," Hisoka agreed easily. The heat had the tendency to make him more docile.

Pulling the file from his suitcase, Hisoka didn't linger any longer than needed, and they left their temporary dwelling. They purposfully ignored the desk man on their way out, and rejoined the packed streets. They stuck close to each other, not interested in losing one another in the crowd.

Even wearing a loose tank top, Hisoka looked a little flushed in the heat. Tsuzuki quickly scanned the area for the closest restaurant, knowing that there they would at least be guaranteed an air conditioner. He made a note in the back of his mind to have a talk with Tatsumi later.

"That looks good," he said pointing in the direction of a small café. Hisoka nodded distractedly and followed him.

The cool air of the café hit them refreshingly as they went inside, and he could hear Hisoka let out a sigh of relief. They were directed to an empty table, where a waitress gave them water and menus.

After they ordered, Hisoka pulled out the manilla folder and started to go over the information.

"The bodies were found at a park not far from here. We should wait until nightfall if we are going to poke around without being caught."

"What about family?" Tsuzuki asked.

"Honda Mammina was reported missing through her work. She doesn't have any family. She lived in Tagawa City prior to disappearing." His eyes quickly scanned the paper in front of him. "I don't think we'll be able to dig up much more on her."

"What about Suetsugu-san?"

"Suetsugu Ayame lived in in Fukuoka. She has an apartment we can check out," Hisoka said, circling the address. "She worked in a…bakery." Hisoka stopped and looked up. Tsuzuki was smiling expectantly.

"We should probably go there, shouldn't we? It is our duty to follow all leads…"

"Right." Hisoka didn't sound convinced. "I could always go alone."

"No! Don't be so mean 'Soka!"

"We have a budget to follow. We can't spend half our funds at a bakery," he deadpanned.

"Mm…" Tsuzuki put on his most pleading face, eyes big, and lip trembling. "I'll be good. Just one treat? Please?"

"Oh look, the food is here." Hisoka pointedly ignored him, a small smirk on his lips.

The waitress smiled nervously as she set a third plate down in front of Tsuzuki. His mouth was already watering at all the delicious food presented before him. Across from him, Hisoka only had a small wrap, which he was absentmindedly taking tiny bites from as he read more details about the crime scene.

Tsuzuki wondered if Hisoka even ate in a day what he'd consume in one meal. Not that Hisoka was skin and bones…but he was rather skinny for a boy. Of course, being dead meant that they wouldn't ever really gain weight, which Tsuzuki was grateful for every single day.

They ate lunch in relative silence, Hisoka jotting down notes now and then on the back of one of the papers. He was a good partner and good at what they did. Tsuzuki was always amazed that for someone who had died when he was sixteen, Hisoka showed a great deal of discipline and dedication to his work. The blond was also intelligent about most things, excluding certain social situations. Usually, Hisoka would take on most of the fact finding and general research, while Tsuzuki took care of the fighting and other things he had more experience with. They made a good team.

When Tsuzuki finished eating, Hisoka was already waiting patiently. They paid and left the café. Hisoka pulled out a map from his back pocket and unfurled it. "We can go to Suetsugu-san's apartment first. She has a roommate, and since it has only been a month since she disappeared there is a chance her room will still be intact."

"What is the roommate's name?"

"Sarita Mei."

Tsuzuki nodded, and looked over Hisoka's shoulder at the map. The teen was tracing his finger along a street. He stopped when found the right place. "Her apartment should be right about here."

It was too far to walk, so they teleported instead.

There were a few apartment complexes on the street they arrived on, all tall buildings made of concrete. Tsuzuki looked around, searching for the particular address they wanted. One of the older buildings ended up being their destination and they walked slowly, devising a cover.

"I could be a detective."

"No, you don't have a badge. Besides, how would you explain me?" They often ran into that problem because Hisoka looked too young to be any believable professional.

"Hmm…" Tsuzuki was about to try another suggestion when Hisoka stopped abruptly at the common board in the front entrance. It was full of various notices and other flyers. Nimbly, Hisoka plucked a small paper from the mess.

"This will do."

"What is it?" Hisoka passed him the handwritten flyer so he could read it. It was to advertise for a roommate… Tsuzuki's eyes landed on the apartment number and he smiled.

"So I just passed my college exam and am looking for a place to live that is closer to the university. You are my older brother who will be working everything out," Hisoka said without skipping a beat. "You talk to her about the basics like price and the area, and I'll take a look around."

Tsuzuki figured it would be the easiest way to get inside. Hisoka looked unthreatening enough, that a woman might be willing to live with him, and even if she wasn't interested, it would still give them a bit of time inside the apartment. "Alright, but give me some sort of signal when you are done."

They took the elevator to the fifth floor, and counted the doors until they came to the right number. Tsuzuki knocked for them. Inside he cold hear footsteps before the door opened to reveal a short woman with a heart shaped face.

"Sarita-san?" Tsuzuki asked genially.

She nodded her head, eyes darting to Hisoka. She smiled suddenly. "Oh! You must be the ones who called about the apartment! Come in!" she said excitedly.

Tsuzuki exchanged glances with Hisoka and then shrugged his shoulders. It wouldn't hurt for her to have confused them with someone else as long as they could play along and get inside.

"I was wondering if you might come by today. Forgive the boxes everywhere, but I was packing up my old roommate's things…" Tsuzuki noticed that there were quite a few around the apartment.

"She's still is moving out?" he probed.

"Ah…" Sarita-san wavered, a brief wave of sadness crossing her face. "No. She passed away."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"It's ok. We weren't really close, but it is still sad you know? She was a nice person." Shaking herself, she put a smile back on. "Anyway, this is the place. We have a kitchen and a good sized living area. The open room at the end of the hall would be yours…"

Tsuzuki walked in the direction of the kitchen while asking, "is the area around here nice?" He saw Hisoka retreat down the hall as Miss Sarita followed him.

qpqpqpqp

Hisoka looked exhausted when they managed to escaped Sarita-san's apartment. She had talked them out of two hours of their day, apparently determined to make them as interested as possible in the apartement.

Hisoka pressed his fingers to his temple and took in a deep breath. They were standing on the sidewalk in front of the apartment complex. It was past midday now, and the temperature had climbed unbearably high. Tsuzuki removed his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

"How did it go? Did you find anything?" Tsuzuki asked carefully. He was ready to move forward in the chance that Hisoka actually passed out.

"The room was already empty except for her bed and a dresser. All the emotions were old and washed out…" He paused, wincing a little, and tried to walk forward. "I didn't find anything that would be useful to us. Besides, Sarita-san wasn't lying; they weren't close."

Tsuzuki walked slowly besides him. Trying to use his empathy seemed to have made his partner only feel worse. He was worried that he would push himself too hard when he was still recovering. "Hey, it is sort of late now. All the fresh goodies will be sold out by now. Why don't we…visit the bakery tomorrow morning. Give ourselves a chance to rest up?"

Hisoka stopped, dropped his hand from his face, and looked up at Tsuzuki. "You don't have to baby me. I'm not stupid…I know you would never delay a trip to a bakery willingly."

Tsuzuki put on a placating smile. "It really will be better in the morning. Besides…tonight we have to visit the murder scene, and right now you don't look too good."

"I'm fine," he tried out the lie. It would have been more convincing if it wasn't for the fact that he always said that even when he was clearly not fine.

"You aren't and there isn't any point in lying about it. We'll get the work done either way, but I'd rather have you in top form when we go to the park tonight. It is our most promising place to gather information." Tsuzuki hoped that his attempt at logic would be more successful than his previous begging. "Anyway, Watari won't be getting back to us until tomorrow at the earliest."

Hisoka pushed his bangs out of his face, a grumpy frown set on his lips. "I hate wasting time," he mumbled.

"It won't be a waste, I promise. We can work extra hard afterwards."

Standing stationary under the mercy of the sun wasn't helpful at all, and the blond was already fanning himself. "So if we _lounge about _the hotel room until tonight, then you _promise _to stop bothering me so much about this?" His tone was beginning to get a bite to it, and Tsuzuki knew that he didn't have much patience left.

"Right," he said, not sure if he really could stop worrying over his partner's health.

"Liar," he said under his breath. "Whatever, let's just get out of this sun."

Back in the hotel room, things weren't much cooler. Tsuzuki took the opportunity to put the ice packs in the mini-fridge. Hisoka was lying on his bed, eyes staring glassily at the ceiling. His chest rose and fell quickly like he was panting.

Digging into his suit case, Tsuzuki uncovered the fan he'd brought. It wasn't very big, but he knew even a small breeze would be appreciated. He propped it up on the window ledge, and turned it so it would be facing Hisoka's direction. After a bit of trial and error, he managed to find a working outlet within reach.

Hisoka gasped in surprise, before blinking groggily at him. His eyes showed some of his gratitude as he wiggled on top of his bed to get more comfortable. Tsuzuki's gaze lingered on him, limbs sprawled carelessly over the bedspread, skin flushed and damp with perspiration. His tank top had shifted up with his movements, showing a small band of his bare stomach much to Tsuzuki's dismay, and he had to force himself to look away.

Guilt rose inside him. It wasn't right for him to look at Hisoka like that, not when he knew his partner didn't want it. Hisoka didn't take notice of his stray emotions however, or at least if he did, passed them off as remnants of some other inhabitant of the room before them.

Tsuzuki distracted himself by rearranging his hastily packed bags so that he would be able to find everything more easily. Somehow it wasn't enough.

qpqpqpqp

There was only so much Hisoka could protest when his body screamed for him to just go along with the relief Tsuzuki was offering him. He knew he was weak to have given in so easily and returned to the hotel room. They wouldn't get any work done now, and it was purely for his sake.

His head felt like it would explode if any more pressure built up inside it. Using his empathy to scan Suetsugu-san's room had only made it angry, if empathy could show any human sentiments, and now he was slightly nauseous.

The hotel could only have been a few degrees cooler than being outside, but the fan Tsuzuki had set up was helping more than he'd care to say. Hisoka wished that if it had to be so hot that it would at least give up on being humid. With the moisture content in the air it felt like he was sweating for no reason at all. Evaporative cooling was definitely failing him…

This area was rounding into its rainy season, but refused to let go of summer. All in all he felt like he was in hell, and it was a dingy little hotel in Fukuoka City.

His muscles twitched uselessly in a minor reflex to escape the uncomfortable emotions filtering in from where his skin touched the bed. They weren't strong, but it was as if the entire hotel room was drenched in fading pheromones and other equally disgusting emotions. It was like an oily substance being rubbed into his skin, but he didn't have the strength or motivation to push it away.

It wasn't like he had anywhere else he could go. This is where they'd been assigned to stay, and he'd just have to tough it out.

His eyelids were heavy, the heat making him feel even more drowsy than he was this morning. With his body so still his mind kept wanting to escape into sleep. He grudgingly held onto consciousness, too insecure to fall asleep with Tsuzuki watching.

Resting was one thing, but he didn't want to fall asleep.

Even though it was the middle of the day, it wasn't a guarantee that he wouldn't begin dreaming the second he closed his eyes. Tsuzuki was too alert and focused on him at the moment. He would notice right away that something was amiss, and Hisoka already felt pathetic enough as it was, without adding nightmares to the lot.

Vaguely he noticed Tsuzuki rearranging his suitcases for the fourth time, and thought it was just a little odd. Tsuzuki _always_ wadded his clothing together. He wanted to comment on it, but all he managed was a grunt.

**AN: **Wow, I'm sorry I took forever to get this out ; I have been really busy getting ready for school, which I have just started. I also went through a small bout of writer's block, but a couple of REALLY nice reviews straightened that out, so I'm back on a roll. Thanks to everyone who did review, even those I was sadly too busy to reply to. Reviews make the difference for me, because I get really paranoid about the quality of my writing some times. Good critiques and encouragement go a long way.

Oh, and between you and me, Suetsugu is the name I got off one of my sushi books. I was randomly trying to make names and while eating some California rolls, and it just made itself.

Also…if anyone is interested in what happened at the convention I attended, I have plenty of YnM photos on my photo bucket account, and some crazy videos on youtube. You can find the links on my profile. Just click on the Kumori-con 2008 folder to get to the pictures.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

They went to dinner first. It was a given that Tsuzuki wouldn't want to do any work unless his stomach was at full capacity. The place they chose was within their price range and had good service.

Hisoka wasn't sure if he liked the food, but by the way Tsuzuki was inhaling it, he guessed that his partner approved. Honestly, he was having a hard time stomaching what he was eating. It probably had more to do with his queasy stomach than the food's taste.

He was actually becoming anxious over the idea of going to the crime scene. He'd never had a problem doing his job before, but with how his empathy had been acting up, he wasn't looking forward to provoking it further.

Still, he couldn't let everyone down. It was their case, and they needed more information. So far none of the leads looked promising, and if they wanted to get anywhere (so they could get out of this infernal city) then he needed to find out something from the crime scene. If they just knew where the women had been while missing, or how they died…

He pushed his food around on his plate, feeling tired and grumpy, and letting his mind wander.

The thing was that there was so much going on in his head that he didn't even know if he could focus on the case. He'd thought that by going he wouldn't have enough time to think about his family, or what was between him and Tsuzuki, but it didn't seem to matter where he was. His mind went there without his permission.

Tsuzuki's garden was more beautiful than he could have ever imagined. Under the spell…when they'd spent hours together in the estate's garden, Tsuzuki had described it to him. Even Tsuzuki could be eloquent at times, and by the way he'd described it, Hisoka had known it was something that Tsuzuki put all his heart into. Still…he hadn't been expecting…

When he'd had his first glimpse today, he'd almost wanted to cry. The flowers were well taken care of, and they seemed to radiate happily, as if glowing under Tsuzuki's attention. It was a small oasis and to think that his partner had created it with his own hands…He'd been in awe.

But it was also painful in a way. In the years he'd spent as Tsuzuki's partner, he'd never seen it before, let alone inquired into something that was clearly important to the man. In the spell, without his prickly reserve, he'd been more willing to listen. It had taken something like that for him to get closer to Tsuzuki. Why hadn't he asked before? Why didn't they ever talk about things like that?

It couldn't be right. Tsuzuki was the person he was closest to, but at the same time he knew nothing about him. He didn't know about Tsuzuki's past beyond what small glimpses he'd gotten of it through his empathy, be it when he was alive, or since he'd become a shinigami. They rarely discussed anything important. It was like a secret agreement between them that it was better not to touch on any subjects that would scare either of them.

It had to be bad…what had broken Tsuzuki so much…but his garden proved that there was still so much life in him.

Sometimes Hisoka felt all dried up, as if he couldn't give anymore, and it was difficult just to smile. He didn't have any real hobbies besides reading, and he didn't aspire to anything besides vengeance on Muraki. That didn't make him out to be much. The only things that really relied on him were his fish and it didn't take a lot of work to take care of them. (1)

Hisoka looked up to see Tsuzuki watching him with a troubled expression. He wondered if Tsuzuki relied on him a little bit. He'd told Tsuzuki that he needed him…but did Tsuzuki need him back?

'I love you.' Did that mean you needed the other person or you would dry up completely because you had no purpose?

"'Soka, are you ok?"

Hisoka blinked, realizing that he hadn't taken more than a few bites of his dinner.

"I'm fine." Disbelief and more worry barreled down at him, and Hisoka knew that Tsuzuki wasn't going to buy it. "I'm just not…hungry."

His parents weren't like that at all. They never worried about him. They left everything to those below them, as if it wasn't worth their time. They didn't _give_ life to anything. Their irritation at any little inconvenience made it feel like his birth was only an obligation. Tending to the gardens was a duty they passed onto a gardener so that they could maintain their status.

If anything, they sucked the life out of things. It wasn't just their bodies or name that was cursed, but their foul personalities and emotions. Maybe they'd dried up long before he was born, and that was why they were so cruel.

If it weren't for Tsuzuki, who was there to worry over him, and show him such gentle emotions… if it weren't for him keeping Hisoka from hating all the time, maybe he would have ended up just like them.

"You look…really far away right now," Tsuzuki said quietly.

But now his mother was dead, his father had barely made it, and he was a shinigami.

"I'm sorry." Hisoka pushed everything from his mind this time, afraid that if he didn't stop soon, he'd be pulled into even more miserable thoughts and he'd never return. "Did you say something?"

"Just--" Tsuzuki stopped and frowned. "Are you sure you're up for this? You seem really out of it…"

"We have to go to the crime scene while it is still fresh. The longer we wait, the less likely I am to pick up on anything useful."

"I know, but your health is more important than--"

It was too much that Tsuzuki cared _so_ much about him… When he couldn't even… That was enough!

"The _case_ is important! This is our _job_! Why do you always worry about _me_?! I'm just--" He stopped, noticing how loud his voice had gotten. The other patrons were turning their heads his way. Then he remembered that he'd said something like this before, and Tsuzuki had replied, 'because you're my partner.'

But this time he started to say, "Because I--" and Hisoka knew it wasn't going to be the same corny line he could scoff at.

"Never mind!" Hisoka said hastily, and he could instantly tell that he'd hurt Tsuzuki's feelings.

There was a moment of tense silence before Tsuzuki said emotionlessly, "Alright." He stood up. "Pay the bill. I'll be waiting outside." Then he turned and walked away.

Hisoka sat staring blankly at his partner's seat for a minute, not sure what had just happened. Tsuzuki hadn't even finished all his food…

Regret settled heavily in his stomach.

"I'm an idiot," he whispered to himself, guilt rising up the back of his throat. Tsuzuki was just trying to be true to his feelings, and Hisoka was too scared to acknowledge them. What kind of partner--friend--did that make him?

Throwing enough bills to cover their meal on the table, Hisoka stood up and left the restaurant. Tsuzuki was leaning against the outside of the building, waiting just like he'd said, his face expressionless. Hisoka could feel his hurt however, sour, and leaking through whatever shielding he had up. Hisoka found that no matter how much he shielded, Hisoka could always sense his emotions nowadays.

Hisoka opened his mouth to say something, anything, but was cut off before he could even try.

"Let's go. We don't want to be out too late. We have an early start tomorrow."

Hisoka swallowed, and nodded hesitantly. He could at least do his job. If nothing else, he could do that for Tsuzuki. Together they began walking, the silence heavy. Now that the sun was setting, the air was cooling down to a semi-tolerable temperature.

Hisoka wished he could take another pill to deal with his throbbing migraine, which had worsened in the restaurant, but was afraid that it would dull his senses too much when he needed to use them. It was an empty gesture anyway, because ever since Watari had told him that medicine wouldn't help him…the pills didn't seem to have a lot of effect.

He'd tried meditation on one of his sleepless nights and gotten nowhere.

By the time they made it to the park, he was sick of feeling Tsuzuki's dejected emotions, and sick of his stupid headaches, and really sick of feeling so tired. He wanted nothing more than to get this over with and return to their room.

It was dark when they got there, but that didn't mean it was entirely empty. There were still people walking here or there on the paths, but no one seemed to give them much notice. It didn't make Hisoka feel any more at ease. It still felt like eyes were on him, but it might have just been his own discontentment from what happened back at the restaurant, turning guilt into a paranoia.

"It happened near the south entrance," Tsuzuki declared after referencing the file. Hisoka was glad that the cement paths were lit by street lamps, so that he could see as they continued through the park. It was pretty big with properly trimmed lawns and carefully planned landscaping. It would have been a nice place to read or eat lunch, that is, if only they weren't there to check out where two women had died.

"It should be around here somewhere…" Tsuzuki looked around searchingly, while Hisoka pulled out the crime photos.

"Hm…There wasn't any blood. They probably didn't leave it cordoned off." In a public place like this, it would draw more attention to leave the area blocked off. If there wasn't any valuable evidence to be preserved, then there wouldn't be any point. However, the police wouldn't be taking psychic residue into account.

"How are we going to find where they were found then? This place isn't exactly small." Tsuzuki turned his attention back towards Hisoka.

"Well…" Hisoka held up one of the photos that wasn't a close up, and slowly trailed it along his line of sight. "There should be a tree with an oddly forked branch."

"Oh!" Tsuzuki grabbed another photo and turned it sideways. "This has a tree with a big knot in its trunk."

They swiveled in place, comparing the scenery of the pictures with what they could see in the park. After a few minutes, Tsuzuki froze and made a sound of triumph. "Over there! I think I see them!"

There was nothing remarkable about the small patch of grass with its few trees. There was no blood, no pieces of _anything_. Only the slightly trampled grass gave it away. There had been many people here, probably most with the police or media.

Hisoka circled the area, wary of what he could already feel soaked into the grass. The newer buzz of interest and sharp criticism was hovering over what he needed to find, like a blanket left by those that had carted the bodies away. There was nothing that could give him. No…he had to go deeper.

He steadied himself and stepped forward, while Tsuzuki held back. He took measured steps past the trees they had identified earlier, just letting his fingertips brush the bark. His eyes instantly began to sting, as if he'd been staring at a TV for too long, and the pressure in his head went up a few notches.

He could feel the flighty emotion of panic, desperate and trying to conceal itself. It wasn't too old, the sensation just strong enough that it twisted in his stomach. This had to be the women. It was a joined emotion, something they'd felt in unison.

He squatted down close to where the grass was most flattened. First he passed his hand a couple of inches over the spot, feeling the intensity of what was there prickle his fingers. It was surprising that he could feel it so strongly even without touching it. There was an almost detectible psychic signature.

And magic…

Kitting his eyebrows, he leaned forward and brushed the ground with the bare tips of his fingers, self-preservation screaming at him to back away. A trill went up his arms, nerves instantly on fire the moment he made contact. He let out a grunt as he fell forward onto his knees, palms flat on the grass.

"Hisoka?!"

The burn went further, spreading quickly through his body and up into his head. Hisoka's eyes rolled back as the full force of it slammed into him.

"'Soka—"

Images flashed by under his eyelids, the blur suddenly slowing and then focusing into something tangible. And there was fear. _Everywhere_.

"Let me go!" Hands were holding him, dragging him backwards, their fists bruising him. "No!!" His eyes frantically searched for a way to escape, watching as the dimly lit hallway passed by. The walls were blank white, giving away nothing.

"Please!" he begged, pulling against the hands.

"Be good now," said a sugarcoated voice. A woman stepped into his line of vision, wearing an old fashioned nurse uniform. His heart hammered faster in his chest, and he flinched back, giving a shriek of horror. The woman had no face, only a smoothed over canvas where one should have been.

"Oh god! Someone help me! Let me out of this damn place!"

"Be a good girl. Stress isn't healthy for you," the nurse sweetly chastised.

"No!" he wailed, the other nurses continuing to drag him down the hall. "I don't want it! I don't want it! I'll never let you--"

They'd gotten to a room now, and he could see the hospital bed waiting. He bucked harder, part of his hospital gown tearing. The nurses gathered in closer, hands groping down his body and hauling him onto the bed.

"Be good now…You get to be part of something big. Much bigger than you. We all have to make sacrifices."

"No!" he shouted again, his throat raw from screaming. His arms were roughly pressed to the bed railings, and the nurses buckled him in place with large leather straps.

"We can't have you over exerting yourself now…"

"Please." He was sobbing now, feeling his ankles being bound as well. "Just let me go!"

"Your exam went well," another faceless nurse told him. "You are ready. Get plenty of rest. Tomorrow will be a big day for you."

The words galvanized a swell of fear inside him, and he instantly felt sick. He couldn't suck in but a few painful breaths. They couldn't! They--he had to get out!

"Yes, get your rest," another concurred as she hung a new IV bag on the stand beside the bed, and connected it to the catheter in his hand. He had a feeling that whatever was inside that bag, he didn't want it inside him.

"Take it out! OUT!" He struggled in the restraints wanting to claw the line from his arm. The nurse firmly ignored him and taped it in place. They then retreated, saying nothing more.

"I want out! Someone let me out!" he screamed, knowing that no matter what, he had to escape before tomorrow came. Or then…it would be too late.

"SOMEONE!!"

"H-hello?" came a timid voice. He was tied too closely to the bed to turn his head properly, but he new that it came from the other side of the curtain hanging by his bed.

"Is someone there?" he asked with a note of desperation.

"Yes. I…I haven't heard anyone else's voice in so long. Not like…those things." He knew she meant the nurses, and understood.

"Who are you? How long have you been here?"

There was silence for a moment, before the voice answered timorously, "Honda Mammina. You can call me Mammina."

"And how long…?"

"I…I don't really know anymore. Weeks. Months…do you know how long you've been here? Or are you new?"

He thought hard, and then swallowed the lump in his throat. "No," he whispered, defeated. "I'm not sure how long I've been here…but I know I have to get out before tomorrow!"

"Then they haven't started on you yet?" She hadn't asked his name, but he wasn't offended by it.

"No. Tomorrow. I--I can't let them…"

"They already started on me, but it didn't take. This will be the second try…" She sounded so weak, as if she'd already given up.

"But you can't let them! Isn't there a way out of here?!"

"I…I tried once. They caught me before I made it out."

He felt a spark of hope and pressed on. "Then you know a way! We have to try again. Please, escape with me! We can't let them do this to us!"

"Maybe…"

"We can! You don't want to stay here either, do you?"

"No…" A soft shifting sound, and the woman asked in an even quieter voice, "what can you do?"

"…What do you mean?"

"Everyone can do something. That is why we are here. You can tell me."

He blinked at the bare room for a moment, unsure if or how to respond. "I see things sometimes…like in my dreams…That is why I need to get out of here."

"Oh."

"What about you? You said everyone…so that must mean you can…"

"I _break_ things." The woman sounded disgusted with the word, and it seemed like there must be a lot of pain behind what she'd said.

"How strong are you?" he asked anyway, not caring as long as it was a way out.

"Not much. But…are you in restraints as well?"

He tugged at a cuff. "Yes. They're leather."

"They have me in metal ones…" There was a deep breath, and then some semblance of hope reared up in the woman's tone. "If…if I break yours…will you promise to come let me out? You…you wouldn't leave me behind would you?"

He was scared, but he knew he couldn't leave anyone else here to suffer while he escaped. This girl was like himself. They…had to stick together. "Of course not. We'll get out of here together."

There was silence after that, and he was beginning to wonder if she would stop responding to him, when he felt something tingle along the side of his wrist. The leather of his cuff was wearing down slowly, like something jagged was being scraped against it. He watched in wonderment, amazed that this could possibly be real.

"I can only do one." she said in a strained voice, as the cuff was sawed down to only a few threads. He pulled his hand and it gave way.

Adrenaline pumped through his blood and he quickly ripped the IV from his hand. It stung but he ignored it as he unbuckled the rest of his restraints.

"Over here," the woman called as she heard the commotion. "Please…you promised…"

"I'm coming," he whispered as he slid off the bed. He walked around the curtain to see another woman strapped to a bed much as he had been. She looked sickly, her skin white and taunt. Only her eyes flickered with some life.

"C-can you pick a lock?" Only her wrists were pinned to the bed, locked in some kind of metal cuffs.

It would take time to pick both locks…maybe too much time. He hesitated, and immediately noticed the fear in the other woman's eyes double.

"Please…"

"Just a moment. I need to find something…" As fast as he could, he retrieved the catheter he'd yanked from his hand, and inserted the needle into the small lock. "I'll try. I only did this a few times when I was a kid…"

It was hard to do. His hands kept shaking with nerves, and the blood was rushing so loudly in his ears that he couldn't concentrate. He almost dropped the needle twice before he heard a small click.

Gaining in confidence, the second one didn't take as long. He made a strangled sound of elation, almost shaking he was so anxious. "Now how do we get out of here?"

"A supply truck comes every morning. It is the only way we'll be able to get out of here without being caught. Nothing else comes in or out."

"How do you…?"

"Another girl told me. She made it once…"

Taking the woman by the hand, he helped her off the bed. She wobbled, her legs apparently weak from lying down so much. He supported her with one arm and they walked to the door.

"Do you know how to get there?"

"It's down. We have to make it to the lowest floor. I…I don't know anything more than that."

"Good enough. Let's go."

The door wasn't locked, and the hallway didn't have any wandering nurses. Everything was deserted as they made their way silently through the halls. He had no idea where they were going, nor did Mammina.

After walking for five minutes through the winding halls, they found a stairwell. It took them down flight after flight, and while he didn't know where they were being kept, he realized that the building had to be bigger than he'd previously thought.

When they finally reached the bottom, they stepped out of the stairwell, only to find themselves in what looked like a house. The floor was now carpeted, and the walls weren't painted white. There was art and light fixtures on the walls in place of windows, and even a plant or two.

Shocked, and even more unnerved, he walked faster, looking for a door to the outside. Carefully, he checked every door they came across, hoping it would be the way out.

He stopped when he came to a kitchen. It was huge and empty, so he edged them in. "Do you think," he breathed, "that this is a place they might make deliveries to?" How would they know? What if they didn't get it right and their opportunity for escape slipped by? What if they were caught again?

They stepped through the kitchen, checking its doors, a total of five, before they found one that didn't lead to another room of the house. This one had a lock on it and a deadbolt. Luckily it locked from the inside.

"I think this is the way out!" Unlocking the door, and cringing at the loud scraping sound it made, he pushed it open.

They ended up in a small garage, with stacks of boxes. There was a huge door to the space, which he knew he wouldn't be able to open. However this looked like the place Mammina had mentioned. He hunkered them down behind some of the stacks, allowing them to rest for a moment.

"What should we do? Should we wait, or try and find another way out?"

Mammina was breathing hard, their progress so far already tiring her out. "I told you. There is no other way out."

"But there has to be. This floor almost looks like a normal house. We could find a window or even another door." He felt scared and vulnerable sitting here. The longer they stayed, the higher the chance of getting caught.

"No, we can't." She shook her head, skin damp with perspiration. "J-just wait. The truck will come right before morning, when no one will see."

He wanted to argue, but she sounded so sure of herself. Besides, her looks were worrying him. "Are you alright? Can…you make it?"

"Yes! I want out! I…I don't want to die _here_."

"Do you…have any family?"

She gave a weak laugh. "No one. Not a single person. I'd be surprised if anyone even noticed I was gone."

"Oh…" He put a hand on her shoulder. "We'll get out of here together. I'll stick with you."

They exchanged looks, silently promising to stay together until the end. They wouldn't be able to trust anyone else.

They waited for what must have been hours, too shaken to sleep, but too tired to do anything but hide there. It was cold in the garage with them only in their hospital gowns, but they stayed close for warmth, and tried to be strong.

Then finally, after an eternity in hell, the garage door began to clank open. They huddled down further, hoping they wouldn't be seen, and listened, only peeking out through the crack between boxes. A shipping truck drove in, the engine cutting out seconds before a man stepped out.

Something wasn't right about him. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he gave off the same eerie air as the faceless nurses did, only there was no obvious physical flaws he could see.

The man opened the back of his truck, and started unloading unmarked boxes. They waited with bated breath for an opportunity. He was very conscious about how loud they were breathing, and the sound of his fast paced heart in his chest.

When the man walked away from his truck, with a clipboard in his hands, they moved forward with a speed that even professional runners would envy. He helped Mammina up into the trailer of the truck, and they scrambled to get behind the very back stack of boxes, praying to whatever gods that existed that the driver wouldn't look there. When twenty or so minutes later the truck door was slid down without being locked, he thought that some sort of guardian angel must be looking out for them.

The truck started up, and then they were being driven away.

"We made it!" he whispered excitedly. Mammina's smile was barely visible in the dimly lit trailer. "Now…we just have to wait for the chance to sneak out of here."

"I can't believe…we got out of there…" She looked close to crying, and she rested her head against his shoulder. "We really got out."

"Yeah…"

"What are we going to do now? Should we tell someone…? _Who_ would we tell?"

"No," he sighed. "We don't know who to trust. We…just have to get as far away from here as possible. We can't let them find us again."

"I wouldn't mind going somewhere new," Mammina mumbled exhausted.

"It will be ok."

Soon they must have made it to the heart of a city, though he couldn't be sure which city since he didn't know the details after his kidnapping. He didn't know where they were now, but with the way the truck was frequently stopping, there must have been a lot of traffic lights.

"We should try and get out at the next light. Come on, let's move closer to the door so we can see how busy the street is."

He knelt down by the small gap between the door and the trailer bed. The road wasn't horribly busy, the sun not even up yet, and there were even times when he didn't see a single car behind them.

"Ready?" He took Mammina's hand tightly, and when the truck stopped at another red light, he pushed the truck door up with all his strength. It must have been spring loaded, because the shove sent it all the way open. It wouldn't take long before the driver realized something was up. "Hurry!"

They jumped out into the road, and made a fast b-line for the side of the road, the rough asphalt scraping on his bare feet. He hoped that the driver wouldn't see them in his mirrors. He continued to fast walk until they were hiding in an alley, and allowed himself to sigh in relief.

"What are we going to do now?" Mammina asked.

"We should find somewhere to rest until morning. Then we'll find some clothes and take the first train out of here."

They started walking together down another street, still careful not to be caught out in the open. "Do you think they've noticed we are gone yet?"

"I don't know… How often do those nurse things check on you?"

"I don't know, but it is almost morning."

When he noticed a park across the street, he led them there. Right away he recognized it as a familiar one. "We are in Fukuoka City! We might be able to get some clothes and money at my apartment if we are this close!"

"Really? I'm not from here…but close. I'd thought that they'd taken me further than this."

"Well come on, we can rest in the park. There will be more cover there."

It was actually warmer outside than it had been waiting in the garage. The humidity kept the air warm even at night, so they wouldn't freeze to death. Once inside the park, they sat down in the protection of a few trees. He leaned back against one of the trunks.

They rested for a while, not saying anything, fear still very present in the nervous way their muscles remained tense, their eyes darting to every little sound. Then, after nearly half an hour passed, Mammina broke the silence. "Do you think it is over now?"

"I don't know. At least…we made it this far."

"I…" Mammina frowned, and looked him in the face. "I think we are still going to die."

"What?" Everything in him froze, and it was almost as if his heart was clenching as well.

"It can't be over. You have to know what we are running from. There _is_ no escape."

"But we made it this far. If we can just--"

"By now they must be figuring out that we are missing. They'll never let us go."

"But we are so close! You don't know that they'll come after us!"

Mammina had a strange look in her eyes, and she was even more pale than before. Already so sick…She was on death's door as it was…

"They will, and then you know what they'll use us for. We can't let them have us. Can't you see how big this is?"

"Then what? What _choice_ do we have?"

"We have to die."

He shrank away, fright racing through his limbs and making him want to run. "What do you mean? That is why we left! So we could be free!"

"And we will be free when they can no longer have us."

"Mammina, you're scaring me!" He stood up and took a step back. "Why are you talking like this?! We made it out! We can get on with our lives!"

"There is no life for us! Don't you see! Not after what they did to us! Not with what they want us for! That girl who told me how to escape, how do you think she was able to tell me?! They always find you and bring you back! Unless we are dead, there is no end!"

She no longer looked like the weak girl he'd helped escape. Her eyes shimmered like fire now, and she was shaking with the force of her words. He was scared. He had to get away! "S-stop talking like that! Stop!" He took another step back.

"You _promised_ not to leave me! We were going to see it to the end! _Together_!"

"W-wait!"

Pain was racing through his chest, and he could barely gasp for breath. Mammina had a peaceful look on her face, even as she clutched at her own chest. All at once he heard her words again, 'I break things,' and knew that he was going to die right there.

Still he struggled, hands clawing at his chest beneath his hospital gown, utter fright screaming in his nerves. He didn't want to die! He'd been so close to getting away! After everything, after getting so far, it was all going to end like this. His knees caved and he collapsed back onto the dewing grass.

"N-no!" he choked, hands weakly pawing at his suffocating heart. Tears burned in his eyes as they began to darken with death, and still he ruthlessly tried to deny it. So close! So close! Why did it have to end like this! Why… Why…

So close to being free…

"Hisoka! Stop!"

Hands were holding his, keeping them from scratching at his chest. He still couldn't breathe, as if his lungs were corked off, but somehow he was still managing to scream. He didn't want to die!

He struggled against the hands, desperate to get free.

"You have to stop! You're hurting yourself!"

Didn't want to die!

"Hisoka!! You need to wake up! _Please!_" The frantic plea finally broke through his panic, and Hisoka ceased moving altogether.

Suddenly, he could breathe again and he took deep gulping breaths, trying to stop his head from throbbing. Then he realized his vision wasn't blurry from lack of oxygen but from tears. Letting out a heavy sob, Hisoka relaxed into the hands holding his wrists.

He could feel Tsuzuki's emotions seeping into him, panicked and scared. He was lying on a bed, head on Tsuzuki's knees, and he had no idea how he'd gotten there.

"'Soka?" Tsuzuki asked tentatively, unsure if he was really back with him or not. His voice sounded shaky, as if he was close to crying himself.

"Tsu…zuki? W-what?" His throat hurt from yelling, and his voice sounded coarse.

"Thank god you're alright!" His hands were released, but then he was being pulled into a tight embrace, Tsuzuki's relief dumping into him in an intoxicating amount. "I didn't know what to do! You wouldn't wake up and you were acting like you were in pain!"

"What…happened?" Hisoka felt so disoriented, and he couldn't straighten anything out in his head.

Tsuzuki was running a hand gently through his hair, probably to calm his own frayed nerves as much as to comfort Hisoka. "We were at the crime scene, and when you touched the spot where the bodies had been your empathy--you just kept flailing and screaming. It was awful. I almost took you back to Meifu, but here was closer."

The bed. Of course. They were back in the hotel room.

"Then you kept clawing at your chest and arms, and I was afraid you were going to hurt yourself. I--I couldn't get you to wake up!" Tsuzuki was terrified, holding him so close and so tightly that it was almost painful. Especially with his spent empathy, it was on the edge of unbearable.

Except that it was Tsuzuki, and he was scared…and it felt good to be held like this. He felt safe, and after what he'd just experienced, he didn't want to push him away at all.

And he couldn't stop crying. He wasn't particularly frightened anymore, but he was so bone deep tired, and his head hurt so much. It all seemed like everything was happening at once.

"I saw what happened to those women," Hisoka found himself mumbling, although he decided not to mention how intimately he'd witnessed the events. "They were being held in this awful place and being used as guinea pigs or something. They escaped…and then the other girl. She--"

"Shh…" Tsuzuki was wiping his cheeks and he couldn't calm down enough to force himself to stop crying, but for some reason right now he didn't really care. "It's ok. Go on. What about the other girl?"

"She made them die so they wouldn't be taken back. That place--" He shook again, remembering the fear he'd felt when those nurses had told him how something big was going to happen the next day.

"They weren't normal. Psychic…powers or something, and that was why they wanted them…were going to do something to them…" He couldn't tell if anything he was saying made sense.

Hisoka's head was being cradled against Tsuzuki's chest, arms wrapped around his shaking shoulders. He didn't know how much more he could explain what he saw, or what he'd felt. It had all been so real, and he'd never had something like that, such an extensive vision, happen through his empathy.

What was going on?

"Tsuzuki…" He pressed closer, losing the battle to hold any tears in, and cried openly. He couldn't help it if he looked weak. He couldn't bring himself to be any stronger at the moment. He was sick, his whole body full of ill nerves, and his head wanted to split open. Everything had been so horrible lately and he just couldn't hold it in anymore.

Everything was as real as what he'd just seen: the spell, his mother dying, his father being lifted from the curse. His empathy acting so strangely, this case that sent them to this evil city and disgusting hotel…everything was against him!

"I'm here," Tsuzuki whispered.

And that just made him cry more. No matter how crappy everything else was in his life, no matter how bad it got, Tsuzuki was still here with him.

"Nn." He gripped Tsuzuki's shirt tightly in his hands. "Why…all this…?"

Tsuzuki's only answer was to continue to run his hands through his hair and down his back in as comforting a motion as he could, late into the night, until Hisoka finally fell asleep exhausted.

(1) In the manga (volume six, page twenty-nine) They show fish in Hisoka's apartment. The little ones have stripes and look like zebra danios to me, and then there is a larger one which could be a goldfish or small koi. I think it is cute that Hisoka has fish, so I mentioned it in here.

AN: Not a whole lot happened in this chapter (on the surface), but I wanted it to be separated from the next.

Thanks to my betas: Tinker Bell Greenleaf and Walkerminion. Much appreciation for the hard work!

Now please review so my muse has food!


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Hisoka's eyes snapped open, flashes of his receding nightmare still lingering in his sight. He let out a breath of air, burying his face deeper into his pillow, wishing he could get even a little more sleep. He stiffened again, when he felt his pillow moving…breathing…

Lifting his head, Hisoka colored after realizing he was sleeping in his partner's arms. It was still dark, and it couldn't have been more than a few hours since what had happened. Tsuzuki was asleep as well, obviously deciding not to move once Hisoka passed out.

He lay there without moving for a few minutes, watching Tsuzuki's peacefully sleeping face. It was strange to wake up with company for once, but startlingly comfortable as well. Knowing that Tsuzuki was still asleep made him less self-conscious. Shifting a little, he felt Tsuzuki's hand press against his back, the other lightly tensing at his shoulder.

It was all so innocent, reminding him of how good-natured Tsuzuki's spirit really was. Only he could hold him like this and not make him feel trapped or threatened. Even though he wasn't entirely at ease with being touched, Tsuzuki's presence made him feel secure in a way that nothing else did.

Tsuzuki's emotions were leveled and hard to pick up. He wasn't dreaming, which Hisoka was grateful for since his empathy was already acting so sensitively. His face was half turned into the pillow of Hisoka's bed, the tips of his bangs tangling in his eyelashes.

Moving the arm that wasn't pinned between them, he reached up and carefully brushed the hair back. His fingers paused at Tsuzuki's ear, only a paper's width from touching his partner's skin. The heat in his cheeks intensified, and he felt a nervous flip-glop in his stomach.

Still he didn't stop himself when his fingers hovered lower, and then lightly landed on Tsuzuki's cheek. It had to be weird that he was touching him like this with no reason at all…and even odder that it made his heart beat impossibly faster. It was different being this close and looking at his face. Usually he hid against Tsuzuki's shirt, too embarrassed to make eye contact.

Swallowing, he retracted his hand. He didn't want to sleep anymore, and he couldn't lie here as they were for the rest of the night. Gingerly he slid Tsuzuki's hand from his shoulder, and then eased himself up sideways, so that he could escape the hold against his back.

The mattress barely compressed under his weight as he scooted off of it. His head ached as if it was full of rocks, and his throat was impossibly dry. He quietly tried to open their room door and dig some coins from his wallet at the same time. The knob prickled awkwardly in his hand, so he used his sleeve to turn it instead. He'd seen a vending machine in the hall earlier, next to the ice machine, and it wasn't a far walk.

The glass of the vending machine was smudged, and he wondered when it had last been restocked. He looked over the selection anyway, not sure what he wanted. He'd never been one for sweet drinks, but some of the sour flavors were good.

His head jerked when a door down the hall opened and a middle-aged man wearing nothing but a bathrobe walked out. He had an ice bucket in his hands. Internally, Hisoka cringed at his luck.

Deciding to ignore the man if possible, he turned back to the vending machine and inserted his coins. He was about to press a drink button when the man said in a clearly suggestive manner, "rough night huh?"

Hisoka gave him a sideways glare, scowling when sexually engrossed emotions rolled against him with the man's leer. With the man's new interest, the ice bucket was set on the ice machine and forgotten.

"I heard you all the way from my room."

Hisoka swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth and tried not to feel too much of what the man was thinking. He thought he would be sick just standing there. Randomly he pushed a button without really looking, anxious to get back to his room.

"Very…responsive aren't you?" The man took as step forward when Hisoka bent down to take his drink out of the vending dispenser. He suddenly felt crowded and a tinge of fear shot through him at the sensation of being cornered. "Is he waiting for you back in your hotel room or are you…free for the rest of night?"

Hisoka whipped around viciously, giving his coldest look to the man. He'd never had someone try and _buy_ him, but it was no better than being taken against his will. There was the same sick feeling of being objectified--of being made into something that could just be used and then thrown away.

"_Piss off," _he spat hatefully.

Momentary surprise crossed the man's features, but he didn't step back. "Come on, no need to be like that. I have plenty of money."

"I _told_ you, 'piss off.'" It took a lot of courage not to show any weakness. The man's emotions were pressing in on him, and the disgusting familiarity of it made him think of things like red moons and cold hands. He wanted to get away, but he'd have to push past the man, and touching him was more than he thought he could handle.

"What's with the high and mighty act--" The man reached out a hand to grab his arm, and Hisoka flung himself back.

"Don't touch me!" He slammed into the vending machine, the whole thing rattling loudly. He was shaking.

There was a pause, and then the man stepped back, confusion clear in his expression. "I didn't mean any harm." He grabbed his ice bucket but didn't fill it. "I don't know what your problem is…Whatever…" Now put off, the man retreated quickly back to his own room.

Hisoka stayed flattened against the vending machine for a few moments, trying to calm his nerves, until even the clinging emotions there began to bother him. He was still shaky as he stood with his drink clutched in his hand. All he wanted was a break but his luck was only worsening.

And damn it, why did everyone think they had the right to look at him like he was some pretty thing for the taking!

_Why_ was he putting up with any of this?! Fine, the case was their responsibility, but why did they have to stay at this crummy hotel with _no_ air conditioning but _plenty_ of men from the shallowest end of the gene pool?!

Squeezing the can in his hand until it made a popping sound, he let out an irritated sigh. He pulled the tab and took a long drink, before marching back to his hotel room. As soon as he saw Tsuzuki curled up on his bed however, he lost all his anger. None of this could be enjoyable for him either.

He shut and locked the door again, before standing over the bed, sipping at his drink. Tsuzuki was snoring softly now, his eyes beginning to shift in REM sleep. They hadn't changed earlier for obvious reasons, but Hisoka frowned when he saw Tsuzuki's shoes on the bed.

Setting his drink down on the floor, he swiftly unlaced them, and pulled both shoes off. He set them at the foot of the bed, and then removed his own. Opening up his duffel bag, Hisoka took out the small journal Watari had loaned him. He'd been reading a few passages whenever he had free time, but so far it wasn't too interesting. The man usually wrote mundane things, only sometimes mentioning the strange happenings he experienced that Hisoka was able to recognize as empathy.

However, when he did talk about dreams or emotions, it often took on a slightly maniacal air, as if he were driving himself crazy with the mere notion of what he might be. Hisoka understood self-hatred. He even understood being afraid of the world, but this man didn't seem strong enough to endure it.

It was like watching a fragile building with cracked beams, and waiting for the eventual collapse. Glimpses of madness like sick foreshadowing in a novel proved that he only need keep reading to see the end result.

Hisoka wondered if Watari thought it was funny to compare him with a crazy man. It surely didn't bolster his confidence any, and he had to remind himself that not everyone with soul-bound powers slowly descended into insanity. Tatsumi was just fine for example…if you didn't take into consideration the 'money tree' growing in his office.

Besides, the journal painted the man's life as a hard one with no family or friends. Everyone, as if sensing his abnormality, shied away from him. He was a social outcast, much as Hisoka felt he himself was at times. However, in death Hisoka could claim that he did have friends. There were people that showed concern for his well-being and as remarkable as it was, he knew he wasn't alone. He had…a family.

Looking once more at Tsuzuki, he gave a small smile.

Sitting down on the floor by his soda can, he rested against the bed, Tsuzuki's soft breathing behind him. Relaxing a little, he opened to where he'd book marked, and started to read.

qpqpqpqpqp

When Tsuzuki woke up, it was because the sun entering the window had just reached the bed. It was starting to warm up in the room again, and he thought idly that they would be better off closing the windows and curtains to try and preserve the current temperature.

He shifted to stop his belt buckle from biting so painfully into his stomach, but that just made the buttons on his shirt press into his chest like hard little rocks. Why was he still wearing his clothes? His hand clenched and unclenched on empty air, and his eyes snapped open.

He was alone on the bed now, and when he glanced at the other bed, it was vacant as well. A nervous rush went through him as he sat up. Then, there, as he turned his head, was Hisoka. An affectionate smile spread over his lips at the sight that met his eyes.

Hisoka was sitting on the floor, his back against the side of the bed, clearly nodding off. He had a book in his hands, but it was slowly slipping from his fingers, and his chin was starting to tip down towards his chest. His eyes were shut, but his head kept jerking up in protest, like he was fighting not to fall asleep.

It was cute.

Hisoka's eyes shot open, as if sensing his thought, or perhaps hearing his movements. He blinked blearily before glancing down at the book in his hands, and then over his shoulder at Tsuzuki's watching face. There was a second of silence where Hisoka slowly seemed to process that Tsuzuki was indeed awake and watching him.

"Morning," Hisoka mumbled. He marked the page he'd been reading with a torn slip of paper, without turning his eyes away from him.

"Morning…What are you doing down there?" he asked curiously. He could understand Hisoka moving off this bed once he woke up, but that didn't explain why he would choose the floor over a perfectly fine bed not two feet away.

"I was reading," Hisoka replied defensively.

"It looked like you were falling asleep to me." Tsuzuki leaned closer to the edge of the bed. Hisoka was still pale, and his eyes were a little hazy. He looked tired and worn out. Tsuzuki wondered how long he had been trying to read instead of sleeping.

"You are the one who slept in so late," he accused. Hisoka got up off the floor, tossed his book on top of his bag, and then stretched like cat. Tsuzuki watched the sun filter in through the blinds and highlight bands of color over Hisoka's lithe form. He sighed.

Hisoka _almost _looked fine this morning.

"Sorry." The time on his wrist watch would argue that it wasn't late at all, but there was no point in contradicting Hisoka. He'd had a rough night, so being agreeable was probably the best course of action. Tsuzuki sat at the end of the bed, and hesitated before asking, "How are you feeling? Last night…was a little scary."

Hisoka's back tensed, and he wrapped his arms around himself. Tsuzuki wished he could replace them with his own arms, but knew Hisoka would just push him away. There was only so much he could do for a partner who hated relying on anyone else. It was a battle just to show him small bits of the affection he felt towards him.

But when things happened like the incident from the night before…Tsuzuki could barely deny the urge to just latch on and refuse to let Hisoka go. It was one thing to act as a barrier so that Hisoka couldn't be physically hurt, or to bug him enough to eat regularly, but what could he do to protect Hisoka from himself?

He should have listened to his gut feeling in the first place. Hisoka wasn't meant to be out here in the field yet. He shouldn't be forced to work under these conditions, and put himself in danger--danger that Tsuzuki was useless to save him from.

When he'd witnessed Hisoka collapse at the crime scene, Tsuzuki had been hit with an all-encompassing panic. It was the worst he'd ever seen his partner. As Hisoka had flailed and let out blood-curdling screams of pain, literally trying to claw out of his own skin, Tsuzuki had been at a loss as to what to do. He couldn't fend off some evil foe, or take on the pain for his partner. It was the scariest feeling, knowing that he could do nothing.

And it seemed to stretch on forever, his fear that Hisoka would never wake up, threatening to take any last bit of calm he still possessed. He'd just kept holding on, trying to keep Hisoka from causing any damage on the outside, while his mind dealt with whatever was on the inside.

He couldn't understand how Hisoka could act so calmly now, as if the pain he'd endured was nothing. Was he really so used to it by now that he could push it to the side? Or maybe he was just good at hiding it. Tsuzuki knew that he hated being seen as weak, but sometimes Tsuzuki wished that Hisoka would be more truthful with himself.

Regardless if Hisoka said it or not, Tsuzuki could tell that the night had taken a big toll on him, and clearly his empathy needed a break. There was no way that he could take another episode like that. It was amazing he was conscious so soon after this one. Maybe he'd grown some sort of tolerance.

He'd have to watch him like a hawk from now on. Even if Hisoka hated him for it, it was his responsibly to make sure he wasn't hurt. It was the least he could do after all his other failings.

There was silence, and when it became apparent that Hisoka wasn't going to respond. Tsuzuki prompted again, "how is your empathy? I've never seen you react so strongly to something like that before."

It never seemed to be pleasant when Hisoka picked up on something, but he could usually shake it off, or raise his shields. Then there were other times, like when he'd found him passed out by Tsubaki's bedside on the Queen Camella, when he wouldn't wake up for a few hours.

"I told you, the women had psychic abilities. I could sense it even before I touched where they died. That must be what did it…There was a lot of expended power there." Hisoka's voice was level, but his body was still stiff, standing facing the window.

It had been rather hard to understand what Hisoka had been trying to say when he woke up last night. He'd seemed so distraught, clinging to him like that…

"Are you alright to go out? We could go back to Meifu instead--"

"No!" Hisoka shouted, and then let out a sharp breath. "I'll be alright," he said, much more steadily. "It worked after all. We have more information now, so we can continue with the case."

Tsuzuki frowned at Hisoka's back. "I don't care about the case," he said bluntly. "I don't want that to happen again. It--" He swallowed. "It was horrible."

"I'll be more careful."

That wasn't reassuring at all. Being careful wouldn't fix the problem. Maybe _actually_ sleeping would help, but Hisoka didn't seem too keen on that, and what was there to make Tsuzuki think he would try any harder elsewhere?

"That isn't enough." Watching Hisoka get hurt over and over again was more than he could take. Words weren't enough. Hisoka didn't make promises.

"I don't know what you want me to do!" Hisoka whipped around, glaring at Tsuzuki. "I'm doing the best I can! We have a responsibility to this case!"

He didn't know what he was expecting. Hisoka had no more control over his empathy than Tsuzuki did. It was always a problem Hisoka struggled with, only now it was more pronounced. If Watari couldn't do anything, then it was doubtful anything they did would change things.

"I know! I…know. Just no more risks alright? We'll do our detective work the old fashioned way." His stomach twisted at the thought of conceding like this, but there wasn't much else he could reasonably do.

"Ok."

Tsuzuki ran a hand through his hair, and let out a heavy breath. This sort of tension was going to drive him crazy! "We should go over everything you saw. Tell me again, what happened?"

Hisoka's expression relaxed, but his body language did not. "I could sense some traces of a psychic signature. I thought it might be remnants of what killed them. I was half right."

"So you saw what killed them?"

"It was Mammina." Hisoka's eyes flickered down towards his bare feet. "They were being held somewhere here in the city. The upper levels were like a hospital, but the bottom level was like a house. I--they--didn't know where it was. They hid in a delivery truck to escape."

"Hmm." It was too bad that they didn't have an exact location, but if Hisoka knew what the inside of the place looked like, then it would help them find it once they narrowed down their search more. He wanted to ask what he meant by, 'it was Mammina,' but figured that Hisoka would clarify by the end of his story.

"They didn't remember who had taken them though. Everyone there had powers too--"

"There were more there?" Tsuzuki asked in worry.

"There must have been. I didn't seen anyone, but Mammina said that another girl had told her the way out, and she was also the one who said they all had some sort of ability. She made it seem like that was the reason they were there."

"So they are looking for people with psychic abilities?"

"They were doing something to them. Like an experiment or…"

Tsuzuki saw him hesitate and rub at his temple, like the recollection alone was aggravating him. He was lost in his own thoughts for a moment, and Tsuzuki tried to bring him back. "They?"

"They weren't human. I don't know who all is involved, but there were these nurses--they didn't have faces."

"Literally, or do you think it was just something distorted in the memories you picked up?" Tsuzuki knew that sometimes Hisoka saw things in a more metaphorical sense, and had to interpret what he sensed.

"No…it was too real. They didn't have any faces. And the truck driver…he wasn't right either." He frowned and shook his head. "Once they escaped they hid in the park. They were going to wait until morning and go to my--to Ayame's apartment."

Tsuzuki finally noticed that Hisoka had been referring to the women by first name, and his slip of tongue gave him away.

"How did you see all this? Third person or…?"

Hisoka glared at him, but looked away too quickly for it to be effective. "I was Suetsugu-_san_."

"Is that why…? Was she in pain?"

Hisoka's arms relaxed from around his torso, and one of this hands went up to his chest, where they had been clawing the night before. When he spoke, his tone was much softer. "She was scared, and when she'd finally thought she was free, Mammina--" Hisoka broke off, his fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt.

"'Soka?"

"Mammina--Honda-san, could break things with her mind. She severed Suetsugu-san's restraints so they could escape, and then she killed them once they were in the park. She was so afraid that they would be taken back that she would rather die. But taking Suetsugu-san with her…"

He actually looked angry. Tsuzuki wondered if it was Suetusugu-san's emotions he was displaying or his own. Either way, it couldn't have been a fun experience for him, and Tsuzuki felt guilty for letting him go through it. Still, there was no denying that he'd gotten them more information to work with.

"Did you see anything else? Anything that could help?"

"No…they didn't even really know what was going on…" Hisoka slumped down against the wall beneath the window. He looked truly exhausted. Tsuzuki rethought trying to convince him to return to Meifu, and then stopped himself. The more attempts he made, the more it pissed Hisoka off.

"At least we have some idea of what he are dealing with now." Tsuzuki smiled as sincerely as he could. "Good job 'Soka."

Hisoka gave him a tired scowl. He didn't like praise either.

"So, do you want the shower first or should I…?" Hisoka tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

"You can go first."

Tsuzuki went to his bag and grabbed a clean set of clothes and his bag of toiletries. He'd learned early on that Hisoka didn't take well to public displays of skin, and the welt that had taken almost fifteen minutes to heal had taught him some modesty. He'd better come out of that bathroom dressed or not come out at all. Now he tried not to embarrass his partner with those kinds of situations, although he didn't see any problems with it.

When he stood up, bundle in hand, he searched the floor with his eyes. "…My shoes…"

"At the foot of the bed."

He didn't remember taking them off, and when he saw them tidily lined up next to Hisoka's sneakers, and not randomly tossed on the floor, he knew he hadn't. He grinned happily, the thought of Hisoka taking off his shoes too cute for him contain. "Thank you 'Soka!" he beamed. He got a grunt in response.

Cheered up a little, he went to the hotel room's small bathroom, leaving Hisoka to doze under the window.

The bathroom was just big enough for him to turn around in without bumping his elbows on the sink. The lighting was an orange-yellow that was not at all flattering. He set his clothes on the chipped toilet lid, and opened the door to the shower stall. After he stripped out of his rumpled clothing, he carefully removed his watch. He made sure not to look at his naked wrist. The tiles were grimy, and he cringed as he stepped in.

The shower head was rusted when he turned on the water, the spray spurting out in odd directions. It was adequate though, and the water heater seemed to work just fine. He retrieved some soap from his travel pack, and started washing.

He made his shower quick, and dressed in his usual clothes. He put his tie back on, and draped a towel over his shoulders so his hair wouldn't get his clothes all wet as it dried.

Hisoka was _definitely_ asleep when he came out. There was no way he could deny it. His breathing was steady, and his eyelids didn't so much as twitch when Tsuzuki called his name.

"You're cuter than you know," Tsuzuki whispered to himself.

He squatted down in front of Hisoka, and watched his serene face for a moment. A warm feeling spread in his chest, and some of the tension he'd been holding on to vanished just like magic. It had been a long time since he'd been able to watch Hisoka sleep.

"I wish you would take better care of yourself…" He was dead to the world. Who knew how much sleep he'd actually been getting.

It had been like this at work too. Lately, Hisoka would be the one falling asleep over paperwork. Only coffee and strict discipline could be holding him together. Was it really so bad to sleep? Obviously it wasn't that he couldn't, but rather that he didn't want to.

"What are you dreaming?"

Nothing now, it would seem. Tsuzuki made the decision to give him a bit longer to sleep. That was the point of allowing the mission wasn't it? He would have a close watch on Hisoka, and he would find a way to get him to sleep more. Well now he was sleeping, and Tsuzuki was going to make sure it was as prolonged as possible.

He scooted back so that he was sitting on the floor against the end of the bed, next to their shoes. It gave him a good angle to watch Hisoka, and he was plenty comfortable.

It was maybe twenty minutes later that Tsuzuki first noticed Hisoka's face scrunch in a displeased manner. His eyes began shifting rapidly, and a second later he groaned quietly.

"What are you dreaming?" he asked again, this time troubled.

Hisoka's hands were clenching against the carpet, muscles trembling slightly, giving the impression that they were moving much more in whatever dream he was having. Tsuzuki leaned closer, kneeling on the coarse carpet.

"No." It passed hushed through those parted lips, but it was enough to make Tsuzuki's nerves bristle. If he was having a nightmare, then he had to wake him up.

"Hisoka," he called loudly.

"Mnn!" Hisoka's breathing was starting to speed up, and his eyebrows were drawn together in distress.

"Hisoka!" Tsuzuki grasped Hisoka's shoulder.

He managed to give it a firm shake before a rush of energy came burning up his arm. The force sprawled him flat on his back. "No!" Hisoka yelled as his eyes snapped open, a wild look to them. His hand gripped his shoulder, almost like he was in pain where Tsuzuki had touched him.

It was a bit of a joke considering that Tsuzuki was the one who'd been sneak attacked. His arm wasn't too bad off though. Unlike the first time this had happened, he wasn't outwardly singed. The burning sensation must have been more imagined. It barely hurt after all…just a strange tingle he could feel lingering in his fingers.

Hisoka's breathing was slowing down, but his eyes were still wide, a tint of fear to them.

"Are you ok?" Tsuzuki asked as he pulled himself back up into a sitting position.

"I--" Hisoka swallowed and rubbed at his shoulder again, before gathering himself. "Yeah, I'm alright. Sorry."

"No, it's ok." He went for the gamble. "What were you dreaming about?" he asked softly, making sure that Hisoka didn't feel cornered into answering.

Hisoka stared at him squarely, but Tsuzuki didn't know if it was an unhappy stare or not. He hoped that his question wasn't taken badly. It wasn't the most tactful of things to do considering his partner's past.

"I'm not sure," Hisoka finally said. Tsuzuki would have been sure it was a lie, but his tone was rather straightforward. "There was something weird at the end, and everything else is a blur."

"Oh."

They sat staring at each other for a full minute, the silence awkward. Suddenly, Hisoka got up and shuffled towards his bag. "I'll shower and then we can go eat," he murmured in the same controlled voice.

"Ok…," Tsuzuki replied as the bathroom clicked shut.

Tsuzuki knew he was allowing Hisoka to get away with too much. If he kept being so lenient, they would end up in some real trouble. He was just so scared that if he pushed too hard in any way, Hisoka would walk away for good.

Tsuzuki waited patiently for him to get ready. Hisoka took extra long in the bathroom, and he wondered if he was only stalling to avoid him. Of course he could just be paranoid. When he finally came out dressed, and appearing a bit more alert, Tsuzuki tried to smother some of his worry.

He put on his shoes, but the small joy he'd felt earlier when he'd discovered Hisoka had taken them off for him had drained away.

Hisoka took out the case report and compared the address of the bakery where Suetsugu-san had worked to his map of Fukuoka. When he was done, they decided on a spot to teleport to.

Nikko Pan-ya, The Sunbeam Bakery, was every bit its name. Overshadowed by the much larger modern buildings around it, it was a small spot of sunny yellow that called out to the passerbys on the street.

Or rather, it was calling out to Tsuzuki's stomach. He was already imagining all the delicious baked goods he was going to buy. Hisoka seemed to catch on to this and stated firmly that he was only allowed to pick out one item.

Did a box of dozen donuts count as one item?

"Make sure you don't forget why we are here. Do some investigating before you stuff your face." Tsuzuki looked over at his partner as they entered the bakery, studying his calm features carefully. Understanding what Hisoka was actually thinking, or how he was feeling for that matter, was like solving an extremely difficult puzzle.

"Let's order first! I can't work until I eat. I'm hungry 'Soka!" he wheedled in his highest pitched voice.

Hisoka rubbed at his temple, irritated. "Stop your whining! Fine, order whatever you want!"

Tsuzuki stopped and turned around, blocking the entire doorway. He smiled excitedly. "Really?! _Anything_ I want!"

"Hey, I didn't mean--"

"YAY! 'Soka is so nice!"

"Wait! You idiot, I didn't say--"

Tsuzuki wasn't listening. He was bounding up to the display case next to the counter and pointing out all the pastries he wanted. A woman wearing a frilly butter-yellow apron was following his enthusiasm with amusement. Soon a large pastry box was filled up with his order. He turned to Hisoka expectantly, imaginary tail wagging in glee.

Hisoka was standing with his hands on his hips, his expression torn between embarrassment over his partner's antics and annoyance at the amount of money that was about to be wasted.

"What?" he asked testily.

Tsuzuki whimpered. "Please Hisoka? You can have some too…"

"You know I hate that stuff." Even as he said it, he was already pulling out his wallet. Whether Tatsumi gave him the money or not, it wasn't going to protect it from being spent by Tsuzuki. "Fine. Here. But you better not be expecting an expensive lunch too."

Tsuzuki had already taken the offered money and was barely listening. He pulled out a large scone and began eating it as they found themselves a small table by the window. It was one of four in the bakery.

"These are good!" Tsuzuki nearly moaned through his mouthful. "Try one."

Hisoka scooted back in his chair as if to show his disinterest, but Tsuzuki wasn't going to give in. Hisoka needed to eat something, especially when he looked so sickly. A good scone could pick anyone up. Tsuzuki pulled one out, placed it on a napkin, and slid it across the table.

"See that one? It is begging to be eaten. Hear it? 'Hisoka, eat me!'" Tsuzuki tried his best scone voice to convince Hisoka to accept it.

"Stop that. You sound like an idiot." He was pale, not whiteout pale, but getting close, and Tsuzuki didn't like it. He also didn't like the way Hisoka's arms were crossed and his shoulders were hunched, like he was trying to collapse into himself.

"Ah, but the poor scone! Just one bite? Pretty please?"

"I don't want it. I'm not hungry."

"But you need to eat in the morning! It is only a little scone…you shouldn't hurt its feelings…"

Hisoka gave him a dark look. "You're babbling," he concluded. "Just finish eating so we can talk to the staff."

"But your scone--"

"I. Don't. Want. It!"

Tsuzuki pouted, licking the crumbs of his own scone from his fingers. Hisoka was awfully cranky this morning. Was it whatever dream he'd had, the lack of sleep getting to him, or was it his empathy? A single pastry wouldn't be able to fight the battle alone on any of those fronts. Those were three-tier cake battles at the least.

A sudden ringing sounded from Tsuzuki's pocket, and he quickly pulled out his cell phone. He answered it with a flip of his wrist. "Hello?"

"Tsuzuki!" Watari's voice sounded on the other end. "Morning! How's the case coming?"

"We got some new information. We are at Suetsugu-san's work right now, and we are going to talk to her coworkers and see if we can't dig up some more."

Hisoka was staring glazed across the room.

"Well I might have something for you. Usually city morgues take longer to process bodies, but I guess these were higher priority. I hacked the system this morning and got the incomplete coroner's report."

"And there's something in there?"

"Yup! Let's not talk over the phone. This is something I'll have to show you. Why don't you pop back over here when you're done there. You can check in with Tatsumi while you're here."

And while he was at it, he'd try and get them into a new hotel. The phone call was a good omen. At least he would have a reason to drag Hisoka back to Meifu. Maybe Watari could do _something_ for him.

"Ok, we'll be there."

Tsuzuki shut his phone and stowed it away. Hisoka still hadn't looked back at him. He was staring in exactly the same direction as when he'd first answered his phone. Man he was out of it.

"'Soka?"

Hisoka jerked and turned his gaze wearily towards Tsuzuki. "What? Are you done?"

He sighed, truly worried. It wasn't like astute Hisoka to be acting like a space case. "That was Watari on the phone. He has the coroner's reports, so we can head there after this."

"Right." He was rubbing his temples again. Did he even know how vulnerable he looked right now?

"Do you want me to talk to the staff? Why don't you just sit here." Tsuzuki was already standing up. As he walked back to the counter he said over his shoulder, "eat the scone."

(1) The money tree…for the fans of the manga we can all recall this scene fondly. It made me love Tatsumi as a character. (volume 6, page 22)

AN: Sorry I took so long to update, but I am getting towards the end of the quarter so I have a lot of homework and tests to deal with. The next chapter shouldn't take nearly as long to come out. I'll work really hard to get it up in the next couple of weeks instead of…a whole month.

Reviews make me work faster? Show some love?


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

He shouldn't have trusted Tsuzuki to gather information. He was too easily distracted and too personable. It was effortless for him to get people comfortable enough to talk to him, but it was usually useless stuff that resulted in long-winded conversations. Tsuzuki spent almost an hour chatting up the girls that worked at Nikko Pan-ya, and meanwhile Hisoka sat at their table.

Hisoka knew he wouldn't have been much help. He gave off a less inviting air that scared people off, and without his empathy, his presence would have just hampered things. Besides, he didn't want to get up. He didn't want to move. His body felt numb, lack of sleep was making his muscles mutinous, and his empathy was so worn out that his entire skin was prickling like an awakening limb. He'd tried to raise more shields, but didn't have the energy to maintain them.

Pathetic.

It wasn't necessarily that he wasn't hungry, but he didn't want to expend the energy it would take to eat. He was having enough trouble thinking through his throbbing migraine, and he just wanted to crawl into a hole and die for a while.

God he was tired…

But maybe his lack of sleep was finally working in his favor. When he'd woken up earlier, he hadn't been able to remember his dream, although it wasn't hard to guess at what it was about. Lately he dreamt strange things about his childhood, had nightmares about Muraki, or played out his fears with Tsuzuki. It was enough for him to avoid sleep if possible.

He didn't want sleep or the accompanying dreams, but now that he was starting to feel the edge of insanity, he couldn't help but long for a pillow and blanket.

He should drink coffee. Lots of coffee. He was so _sick_ of coffee…

"Hisoka, are you still awake?"

Hisoka jumped in his seat. Tsuzuki was standing _right_ there in front of him and he hadn't even noticed. Maybe he had cut out for a second… Blinking a few times, Hisoka tried to focus. "Did you get anything useful?"

Tsuzuki was frowning, and more worry began to pick at Hisoka's cocoon of self-preservation. He wanted to kick the man and tell him to shut his emotions up. There were enough in this damn bakery. He already felt like a pile of bricks was on his chest.

"Everyone seemed to like her. They had a lot of nice stories to tell…but no one knew anything about why she disappeared. They are just as in need of answers as we are."

"Great." He tried to stand up, but had to make two attempts. His balance was definitely off, but if Tsuzuki tried to help he would not be able to take the humiliation. "Let's go see what Watari has for us."

Hisoka reached out a hand to open the door for them as they left, but flinched back, allowing Tsuzuki to do it instead. Touching anything seemed like a bad idea at the moment.

They teleported once they were outside the bakery, and the trip took more effort than Hisoka was used to. He was actually breathing a little hard when they arrived in Meifu.

_Hold it together._

Hisoka was great at hiding when he was in distress. Sadly, Tsuzuki was just as good at reading him. "Hisoka, are you alright?"

"Of course, and if you try to make me eat that damn scone again, I'll shove it down your throat." Good. His voice wasn't weak. There enough bite to it to dissuade Tsuzuki from bothering him any more.

It didn't keep his partner from constantly glancing at him though. Hisoka felt like he was under surveillance with the way Tsuzuki kept scrutinizing every move he made. It was just something else he was going to have to endure.

They entered the ministry building and headed directly to Watari's lab. When they entered, Watari's lab coat was covered in grease, and he had a wrench in his hand. The small pile of wires he'd been soldering when Hisoka had last seen him, had evolved into a larger contraption.

"Uh, Watari, what are you working on…?" Tsuzuki asked with a bit of trepidation. Hisoka agreed fully, and they didn't walk any further into the lab. There was no way to know if the machine would explode or not.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing… I'm not done yet." Watari tightened a bolt and set the wench down. He wiped his hands on his coat and walked over to them. "Besides, that isn't why you are here. Just come take a look at these reports!"

They followed him to where his desk was, and sat down. Hisoka was grateful to be off his feet, but not moving posed another problem: staying awake.

"Morning Bon! How are you doing?" Watari looked him over, his smile not changing even as his eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

"Fine. What did you find?" Hisoka wanted to get to the point.

"Well according to the incomplete report by the coroner of the city morgue, cause of death--both deaths--were heart attacks. Of course you can't really trust those sorts of things."

It was common knowledge that the police liked to discourage autopsies simply to keep the homicide rate down in their jurisdiction. Doctors and other officials would be pressured to attribute unnatural deaths to health reasons, like heart failure.

"I doubt anyone will say anything to the contrary," Hisoka commented. It could be really frustrating when it came to shinigami work, because most of the time the incorrect cause of death would be stated in the soul's record. Only once the soul had arrived in Meifu could the mistake be rectified.

"I suppose we won't know what really happened until we find the souls," Tsuzuki said disappointedly.

Watari, ever the optimist, said, "It's a stroke of luck that the bodies even made it to the morgue. If it hadn't been for the victims' lack of identification, their families would have already been planning the funeral by now, and all the evidence would be out the window. For now, they are stopped over at the city morgue, and at least the coroner himself seems to think they are more than simple deaths. Whether he will take the next step and perform an actual autopsy…" Watari trailed off meaningfully.

Hisoka had seen worse crimes go ignored, and highly doubted the matter would be taken seriously. (1)

Watari continued, "The bodies will stay there until they are properly identified and their next of kin contacted. If this is the work of a serial killer, then they might look into it more instead of just issuing death certificates, but there would have to be a higher body count."

Hisoka cringed at the thought.

Tsuzuki spoke up on his partner's behalf. "It wasn't a serial killer, but considering the situation, there are more people in danger. Hisoka saw some things when we went to the crime scene. Both the girls escaped from a house they were being held at. We don't know its location. Apparently they were being experimented on, and possibly by demons or spirits." Tsuzuki glanced at him as if to confirm what he was saying. "Both women had psychic abilities, and there might be more people like them being held at this location. We should check to see if this is a link in any of the missing person reports. And…Honda-san caused their deaths."

"Caused them?"

Hisoka answered, "She could break things. She must have caused their heart attacks...or whatever it was." Hisoka could feel that phantom squeeze in his chest and thought that for once, the police had it right. "Honda-san was afraid they would be taken back by the kidnappers."

"Ah, I see. Then we can't rely on the coroner to do anything more with the bodies." Watari picked up two folders from his desk and opened them up. "Then that just leaves us with more to look into. Luckily, there was something remarkable about their bodies, which was noted in the report. They shared a tattoo…"

Interested, Hisoka leaned forward to see the photos Watari was holding up. The one he saw first was a bust shot of Suetsugu-san. She was naked, but the photo started just high enough to preserve her modesty. Over her breast bone was a small round tattoo. Another photo was a close-up of the tattoo, and there he could see that it was actually a complex system of shapes overlapping, and in the mix was a pentagram and a form of writing.

"It almost looks like the contract that was in Hijiri's eye," Tsuzuki murmured.

"It looks familiar to me, but I can't place it. I haven't had a chance to decode it, so we don't know what the spell was pertaining to. That will take a little more time," Watari said.

"Did you see anything about this?" Tsuzuki asked Hisoka. He shook his head and swore he could feel his brain swooshing back and forth in his skull. His head gave another painful throb. "How long until you can decode it?" This time the question was directed towards Watari.

"It depends on how many layers it has. I won't know until I start in on it. If you come back later in the day I can give you a better estimate."

Hisoka remembered his dream, and asked, "Were there any indications of what they might have been doing to the women?"

"I noticed some needle marks on their arms in the police photos. They looked like standard IV marks to me, but I'd want a closer look if I was going to say for sure. Considering that they died of 'heart attacks' at the same time, I was hoping they would run some sort of toxicology panel, but I wouldn't hold my breath. That would be the only way to see what drugs, if any, were administered. Physically, there didn't seem to be any other traumas on the bodies. Again, I wouldn't trust the police or coroner to mention it if there were any."

"They were testing something on them. It was going to be the second time they tried on Honda-san, but Suetsugu-san hadn't had it yet." Hisoka wished that they could figure out what was being done to those women. What could be so horrible that Honda-san would rather kill herself that have it happen? What could turn her into a killer? "If we could just get an idea of what they were doing to them…"

"Hm." A spark of enthusiasm flickered in Watari's eyes, and he gave his mad scientist grin. "You know…if I could get a some samples from the bodies for my own purposes, I could run the tests myself and check for any magical properties."

Tsuzuki made a distasteful face. He was probably thinking, like Hisoka, that he didn't want to break into a morgue.

"Oh no, you wouldn't have to do it." He actually looked a little excited. "I could probably coax Tatsumi to go with me during lunch break or something… This is work for a scientist like myself, after all."

Hisoka doubted Tatsumi would be any more excited by the idea.

"You might as well stick around and get some research done in the library. I'll start the decoding program now on this computer," he said, patting his desk monitor. Hisoka saw that Watari's laptop was already busy running some other program.

"Alright. Um…Watari…" Tsuzuki hesitated a moment. Hisoka could feel that he wanted to ask something, but he didn't know why Tsuzuki felt so nervous about it.

"Yes?"

"Just…well, Hisoka has been having some trouble since he used his empathy at the crime scene--"

"Tsuzuki!" Hisoka growled, not at all happy that his partner had ratted him out like that. He didn't need Watari poking and prodding him, and he was pretty sure that there was nothing that could be done for his particular state crappiness. Besides, that is, sleeping--as long as there weren't more horrendous dreams to ruin it for him.

He really wanted to sleep.

"Trouble?" Watari's interest was already piqued. Hisoka sank further into his chair.

Tsuzuki gave him a sideways glance of apology. "Well, I've noticed that he hasn't wanted to touch anything since…"

"It isn't like that," Hisoka defended. "My empathy is just being more sensitive. I pick up too many residual emotions off things right now."

"But you cringe whenever you come into contact with something, and I've had to open all the doors--"

"I wouldn't have let you if I knew you were going to complain about it," Hisoka said snidely.

"I'm just worried--"

"Well stop it! I'm just fine, and your worry is starting to get on my nerves!"

Watari started laughing. Hisoka glared at him, but he didn't stop laughing. "Just listen to you two squabbling!" Watari panted between inappropriate giggles. "You sound like an old married couple!"

Married?! Hisoka's face went red. He didn't like that small sense of satisfaction he could feel from Tsuzuki either.

"Is there anything that might help?" Tsuzuki asked hopefully.

"Tsuzuki I doubt--"

"Actually…" Watari interrupted him, recovered from his fit of laughter now. "If you don't want to feel emotions off _objects_… I might have something useful."

"Really?" Hisoka asked in disbelief. It was a better response than heavy pain killers that put him to sleep, or advice to meditate.

"Yup!" Watari hopped out of his chair and started rummaging through the cabinets under a lab station. "Should be in here…"

003 flew off the book shelf she'd been napping on and landed on Watari's shoulder. She hooted loudly.

"Yes girl, I know I was using them just a week ago…but where I put them…"

She hooted again and flew to a shoe box over the sink. Watari looked up and beamed. "Of course! Always the last place you'd look! Good job girl!" He retrieved the box and opened it. "Here you go," he said as he handed a pair of black gloves to Hisoka.

"Gloves?" he asked skeptically. He could have done that on his own.

"They are warded. I use them when I'm studying magical objects that could be dangerous. They keep things you are touching from reacting to you, or in your case, would prevent residual emotions from interacting with your empathy."

Hisoka was speechless. It was a nice gesture. Tsuzuki asking Watari for help was a nice gesture. They were both only trying to help him. He suddenly felt remorseful for being so testy earlier. Maybe if he wasn't so tired…

"Thanks," he said quietly.

"It won't keep the normal stuff out, so you'll still have to take it easy, but opening doors shouldn't be a problem anymore."

"Thanks a lot Watari!" Tsuzuki picked up the pastry box he'd set by his chair when they'd sat down. "Want something from the bakery? I got a lot because Hisoka said I could get anything I wanted!"

"I did not!"

qpqpqpqpqp

They'd been sitting in the library for hours now, surrounded with books and other print outs, doing their research. This was the fifth time Hisoka had found himself snapping awake after accidentally 'blinking' too long.

Across form him, Tsuzuki was skimming through a large leather bound book. Whether or not he was actually paying attention to anything was up for debate. He didn't seem to be all that alert either.

Tsuzuki was supposed to be looking up demons or spirits that could come in the form of the nurses Hisoka had seen. He'd described them in as much detail as he could, but so far Tsuzuki hadn't found them.

Hisoka was looking through Fukuoka's latest list of missing persons and trying to find any likely victims by looking for shared characteristics with Honda-san or Suetsugu-san. It wasn't getting him anywhere. He would have to see if any of them had psychic abilities, but that would involve looking at their individual files. He needed to request that the Gushoshin brothers do it for him since he didn't have that sort of access.

"But they could talk?" Tsuzuki asked suddenly.

"What?"

"The nurses. They didn't have mouths, but they could talk?"

Hisoka stared at him for a moment, but Tsuzuki seemed entirely serious. "Yeah…"

"That's weird. Was it telepathy?"

"I don't know. It sounded like they were speaking out loud. Does it really matter?"

Tsuzuki's shoulders slumped. "I guess not. I'm just not having very much luck. At least we know they weren't golems--they can't talk."

"There isn't anything remotely similar?"

"Well the thing is, lower power spirits or demons can be used as servants of sorts, but to actually find one that has the appearance of a faceless woman…"

Hisoka let out a long sigh. "It might not be worth it anyway. Finding out what the minions are won't tell us who the master is. What we really need to find out is who is behind this and why."

"Well we know that the victims should have some sort of spiritual powers. That could be what they are testing…or since Meifu still hasn't received either of the women's souls, it could just be that those souls have more power for them to use."

"And if Honda-san killed them by stopping their hearts then there isn't anything that should have kept them from coming here."

"Right. But they didn't. So whoever we are dealing with, managed to capture their souls before they could come to Meifu."

Hisoka nodded. "Because they aren't loitering on their own. I didn't sense any presences at Suetsugu-san's apartment, or her work, or even the crime scene.

"So they wanted their souls then?"

"Unless they just took them to make sure we didn't find out what is going on."

Tsuzuki bit at a hangnail on his thumb. Hisoka watched his furrowed 'thinking' face, and found it a bit comical. He appeared very serious, but he was chewing on his finger in an anxious childlike manner. He realized he was staring too long when Tsuzuki noticed and gave him a wink.

Hisoka turned away, but couldn't help but blush.

"We won't know anything until we hear back from Watari."

Hisoka pushed the papers he'd been reading away from himself. "And I'll have to ask the Gushoshin to cross check this missing persons list with their files. There is no way to know if any of these people had abilities."

"And I'm hungry," Tsuzuki threw in.

"Of course you are." It wasn't a surprise. Actually, Tsuzuki had been very good waiting this long since breakfast. Of course, having a whole box of pastries to dip into did take care of one's appetite. They were probably all gone by now.

"Don't say it like that. It's way past lunch now!"

"It's two in the afternoon."

"Two-thirty and I'm hungry." Tsuzuki frowned. "Aren't you? You didn't eat breakfast."

He was. He just didn't feel like going somewhere crowded with people to find food. "I guess I am," he conceded.

"I could get us something if you want to stay here," Tsuzuki said as if reading his mind.

"Sure."

"I'll check in with Tatsumi on the way out too."

Hisoka nodded, but he felt rather useless just staying here, so he volunteered, "I'll visit Watari while you are doing that. I can see what the progress is on that tattoo found on the bodies."

"Ok." Tsuzuki cocked his head with a grin. "You don't think Watari actually managed to drag Tatsumi to the morgue with him, do you?"

Hisoka shrugged. "Who knows. Those two have been spending more time together lately."

Tsuzuki froze, comprehension dawning on his face. "You don't think…?"

"It isn't my business, Tsuzuki, nor is it yours."

"But you would know wouldn't you? With your empathy? Have you sensed any _vibes_--"

Hisoka rubbed at the side of his head in irritation. "Just go get the food!"

"Fine. Fine. I'm going." Tsuzuki surrendered, but Hisoka could feel that his curiosity wasn't completely squashed.

Hisoka got up as soon as Tsuzuki left. It wouldn't do any good if he fell asleep again and missed his opportunity to keep his word. It would be pathetic if Tsuzuki came back to find him napping over their papers instead.

When Hisoka entered the lab, 003 was the only one there to greet him. She hooted excitedly and landed on top of his head, much to his chagrin. He detangled her claws from his hair and pulled her down into his arms. She seemed to accept that, letting out a few notes of happiness.

"Ah…do you know where Watari-san is?" he asked stupidly. Or at least it was stupid to be asking a bird. Still, Watari always understood her, so there was a chance that the question would get across.

She stared up at him with large blank eyes.

"Right. Even you think I'm stupid."

He sighed and walked over to Watari's desk. Glancing at the screen didn't tell him much, but it looked like the decoding program was still running. He stared at the separated shapes for a moment before turning back to the lab.

There weren't any chemicals out at all, which was a strange sight in Watari's lab. Tatsumi would be very happy about that fact. Hisoka wasn't as interested in thinking about a prospective relationship between them as his partner was, but he wasn't ignorant of the possibility that there was one, or the beginning of one. It was just that he was having enough trouble thinking over his own relationship with Tsuzuki to bother thinking about someone else's.

On the station closest to him was the machine Watari had been working on. He approached it cautiously and studied its outside. The whole thing was about the size of a microwave. It was a solid metal square with an open back panel where Watari had been working on the wiring. On the front was a large lens.

"What is he working on?" he asked himself. It didn't look anything like some of his former inventions, like Jason-kun or Bubble-chan. It wasn't made with bright colors, or funny shapes. It was simple.

He followed a wire out of a side port, and realized it was connected to Watari's laptop. That was open, and it hadn't gone to screen saver yet. Watari must have stepped out recently then. The fact that he hadn't logged out to the password screen also proved that he would be back soon.

Hisoka walked over to the small computer and read the text that was up. He wouldn't want to admit it, but he was curious about what this black box was supposed to do. The function wasn't obvious, and it was different enough from Watari's usual works that he was intrigued.

There was some codex on the screen, numbers, and command options. Hisoka froze, his eyes stilling about midway down the screen. His heart beat faster as he reread the line.

_What was Watari working on?_

In perfectly defined font, was Kurosaki Rui. His mother's name. Right there on Watari's computer.

Why? Was it a file left from the case? Why would it be up now of all times? The case was over and done with, so there shouldn't be any need…

He swallowed hard and tried to rein in his rampaging thoughts. Glancing around cautiously, he reaffirmed that 003 was his only company. There was no one here to stop him. He could just click on it and see what Watari was up to. It was his mother after all, so he had the right…

Nervous but determined, he used the cursor to select the 'Y' command, and a small hour glass began to turn under the word 'processing.' Behind him the black box buzzed to life.

Hisoka jumped, and turned around just in time to see the lens on the front adjusting. A small red LED light began to blink, showing that the power was on. Then the lens settled, and light streamed out onto the empty floor space in front of him.

His whole body seized, muscles locking up in horror. His mouth had gone dry, and he suddenly couldn't breathe.

"M-mother…?" he gasped fearfully.

There she was, exactly as he remembered, standing just a few feet away. Her eyes were narrowed hatefully, lips pursed in disdain. Even her long hair looked oh so real as it fell down the back of her prim silk kimono. There was a pink tinge to her cheeks, life very much present, and Hisoka's brain couldn't process the reality of what he was seeing.

"You," she said in an accusing tone. "I thought we'd finally gotten rid of you!"

The anger was there, just like he remembered as a child, but it didn't resonate the same way. He couldn't truly _feel_ it, and that only confused him more. But the words were real enough, as was her familiar voice, and it tore at a place deep inside him.

"You really are a demon child, returning after you are supposed to be dead! Are you trying to haunt me?! Just like my sister--always ruining everything!"

"No…" He took a stumbling step back, his insides knotting tightly. He desperately wanted to get away from her.

"It is all your fault! Nagare would have loved me if I hadn't given birth to a freak like you! Even more than my dear sister!"

She came forward, the hem of her kimono fluttering around her ankles. His mother's features were pinched angrily, her pretty face twisted into such a look of disgust, that Hisoka found it hard to even look at her. Still, he couldn't turn away. His eyes were locked with her burning ones, and he couldn't so much as blink.

"Why didn't you die?! Something like you shouldn't exist! You'll just destroy everything for anyone who gets within two steps of you!"

Destroy everything, just like how he messed up the last case. Just like how he always caused Tsuzuki problems and acted so cruel even when he didn't mean to. He couldn't be what Tsuzuki needed him to be. He couldn't be what he _wanted_ to be.

"No…Mother…"

"Don't call me mother! You little parasite! You killed my baby! You aren't mine! Demon child! Demon child!" She just kept getting closer, and finally he had nowhere to go. His heels hit the leg of Watari's desk and his knees buckled weakly.

A thousand images and memories rushed through his mind with the strength of a tsunami, the words embedded so acutely into his subconscious that he couldn't remember a single day of his childhood that he hadn't heard them.

_Demon child._

"I'm not…no…" He scooted back until he was pressed firmly into the desk and drew his legs in close. "I'm sorry…" His eyes were burning, and his throat was closing up.

"Everything would have been perfect if it hadn't been for you. Everyone would be much happier if you stayed dead!"

She had to be wrong. Tsuzuki still wanted him. He had to want him. If everyone hated him then…

"You just hang on where you aren't wanted, sucking the life out of everything. You destroyed our family, and now you'll destroy everything else!"

"Stop…" He covered his ears futilely with his hands, trying to block out her hurtful words. He didn't want to hear any more. No more… "P-please!"

She was so close now, the words blaring through all his defenses. There was no escape and he would always be locked down here in the basement… hated… hated…"And you dare to come back! You dare to say you're my son. You filthy demon--!" She reared her hand back to slap him, and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut in anticipation of the blow.

Only it never came.

He opened his eyes and saw Watari scrambling to turn off the program on his laptop, his face deathly pale. The box quieted with a soft hiss.

"Bon? Are you alright?" He was squatting down in front of him then, eyes wide with worry and regret. "Bon? Bon?"

But black was encroaching on the edges of his vision, and his throat was still stuck with fear while his body continued to tremble.

"Bon?"

The last thing he saw was Watari's white lab coat as he passed out.

qpqpqpqp

_Kagome, Kagome_

_When will the bird come out of its cage?_

_The turtle and the crane slipped out at dawn._

_Who's that behind you?_

"Hisoka?"

"Hisoka?"

He was crying, heavy tears spilling down his cheeks and dripping from his chin. They wouldn't stop.

He was surrounded by other boys and girls, all sympathetic. No one hated him here. He was safe here. "Did your mother hurt you again?"

"You poor thing," one cried.

"Isn't he a poor thing?" another agreed.

Suddenly they were tugging at his sleeves, pulling him along with them. "Come play with us!" they cheered merrily. It felt good to _feel_ joy.

"What should we play?" a girl asked.

"What should we play?" a boy echoed.

"Ring around the rosy!" one suggested.

"King of the mountain!" an older boy overruled.

"War!" It was shouted the loudest, but Hisoka felt encouraged now, and wanted to join in.

"Kagome, Kagome!" he volunteered.

Everyone nodded in agreement. They would always agree with him. Everyone held out their hands and played rock paper scissors, deciding who would be 'it' first. Hisoka won the last round with scissors beating paper.

"Okay, Hisoka's it!"

_Hisoka's the oni._

The other children surrounded him as he placed his hands carefully over his eyes. His cheeks were still wet under his palms, but they were beginning to dry now. He cleared his throat and started singing out the child's song.

_Kagome, Kagome_

_When will the bird come out of its cage?_

_The turtle and the crane slipped out at dawn._

_Who's that behind you?_

"Okay, Hisoka. Now you have to guess who's behind you," someone called to his left.

"Guess the name," another encouraged.

"Yeah, guess the name," someone cheered from in front of him.

"Unh…" But he didn't know what to say. His small fingers gripped tighter over his eyes, and he bit his lip.

_The name?_

"What name?" he asked quietly. "Whose name?"

"The name of the person behind you," a girl giggled.

But who could that be? Names…names…he didn't know any. "Who are you people?"

"We're friends from your village. Have you forgotten us?" a boy asked from the circle.

"How sad."

Another chimed in. "How sad."

"Friends from…_my_ village?" He didn't have…friends. He hadn't been to the village in so long... He was always in that cold dark room, where his mother locked him away when she became angry--when he was bad.

Small chuckles. "That's right…we're _friends_." The laughter grew louder, like it was all one big joke. Were they laughing at him? Was it funny that he had no friends…that he was playing the oni?

Always the demon…always…

"You still don't know Hisoka?" a girl's voice asked right behind him, her words coated with hidden meaning. Should he? But he didn't know who it could be. Who was the little girl who felt so empty behind him?

An inkling of fear gathered in the pit of his stomach. It didn't feel right. She--none of them felt right! His hands slipped from his eyes. He turned gradually, so that he could see the girl who demanded a name.

"My name is Hisoka too!" She had no face. Nothing was there over her shoulders, the voice echoing sharply in the air even without a mouth to deliver it. "I have the same name as you!"

Why…would this thing have his name?

"Why do you have my name?" she asked at the same time he thought it to himself. Her voice became possessive. "It's _my_ name…"

Anger seeped towards him, making his heart speed up and his palms sweat. Why was she so angry? It wasn't his fault that he had the same name. His father had named him… He didn't want to hurt anyone!

"I had it first!" she screamed shrilly. "I won't let you have it!"

He turned quickly, scared of the strange faceless girl who had the same name as him. Her anger hurt, and he wanted to get away. If he went back to that room in the basement before Mother found out he was gone, then he wouldn't get in trouble. At least in that room this girl couldn't get him.

"Give me back my name!!" He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see her kimono split into scraps, her body disintegrating into a cloud of thick black smoke. It rushed at him, hot and abrasive like coal dust from a fire.

He stumbled back, arms coming up to shield his face from the angry mass.

"AAAAAHHHHHH!!"

**AN: **The last bit was a dream from volume ten, page one hundred forty-seven. Kagome, Kagome is a children's game, where one kid is picked to play the oni (demon), and the other children surround them in a circle. They sing the song with their eyes covered, and then try to guess who is behind them. In the manga Tactics, Kantarou said that the game was used to single out children with psychic powers.

The whole thing with Hisoka's mother and Watari's invention will be explained in the next chapter. Although, for those of you that have read the Hana to Yume chapters after the manga, you'll know where this is from.

(1) This is all entirely true. Japan has the lowest crime in rate in the world but they also lie about the causes of death a lot. Autopsies are only performed 11.2% of the time. Isn't that insane? It totally makes sense now how Muraki can rape and murder people (leaving tons of evidence behind) and never be caught. They aren't even _looking_. Of course I'm not saying this happens all the time, but enough that it is a recognized problem.

AND…..Happy Turkey Day!!! (If you live in the U.S.)


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**WARNING **Now I said I wasn't going to do this (put warnings in later chapters), but I don't want the hassle of people freaking out on me for whatever reason. So, just so you know, there will be a nonconsensual sex scene in this chapter. If you are sensitive to detailed descriptions of this nature, DO NOT READ. It will be quite obvious when things are going down hill so just scroll down until the scene is over. Use your own discretion.

"Tsuzuki-san. Good afternoon." Tatsumi was working on paperwork as usual, but he seemed to be in a fair mood. Perhaps they were less in the red this month.

"Hisoka and I are here doing some research so I thought I would stop by and report in," Tsuzuki said.

"Yes, Watari-san said that you've gathered some more information on your case."

Tsuzuki sat down and smiled. "Some." He then proceeded to fill the secretary in on what they knew so far, and on what Hisoka had seen.

"Very good."

"So we are just waiting on the decoding of the tattoo found on the women." Seeing an opportunity, he added, "Watari mentioned he would try and get a sample to work with for more tests. Did he ask you…?"

Tatsumi adjusted his glasses, a slightly hassled look to his frown. "I'm a busy man. I don't have time to go gallivanting into morgues."

"Oh, so you didn't go?"

He cleared his throat. "You know how distracted Watari-san can get when he is near chemicals. I couldn't find anyone else to escort him."

It sounded like an excuse. A really poor excuse. Tsuzuki's grin widened. "You were probably the best person for the job. You two seem to understand each other."

"I would hardly say that I understand that man," Tatsumi said, bemused. "I could save the division from wasting so much of its slim funding if I did."

"You work well together." Tsuzuki's smile softened. "I could never say that I understand Hisoka fully, but we keep each other out of trouble."

"Speaking of Kurosaki-kun," Tatsumi segued effortlessly, "how is he doing? It sounds like the case is carrying on pretty well."

"He's pushing himself too hard." Tsuzuki sobered quickly, remembering his real reason for wanting to speak to Tatsumi alone without Hisoka there. "He doesn't sleep. He barely eats. I don't know what to do. Nothing I say seems to be getting though to him, and when he used his empathy at the crime scene--" Tsuzuki raised his hand over his eyes and took a calming breath. "I've never seen him like that. I really thought…"

Tatsumi straightened, caught off guard by the sudden change in atmosphere. He frowned solemnly. "Did you take him to Watari-san?"

"He doesn't want any help. When he woke up he just brushed off what happened, but if you'd seen it… I _know_ he isn't all right." Tsuzuki looked at Tatsumi with helpless eyes. "Watari gave him some warded gloves so that he could still touch things without picking up stray emotions, but I feel like things are getting out of control."

"Have you tried talking to Kurosaki-kun?"

"Since I kept the Kamakura case from him, it has been difficult to talk to him--even worse than before. I just got things back on track…and I'm afraid he'll stop talking to me again if I force the issue."

Tatsumi sighed and folded his hands together in a thoughtful manner. "So you are suggesting…?"

"I just think it would be best if he stayed in Meifu for a while. He's too at risk with his empathy to deal with the case right now. Even just a few days…"

"I doubt your partner would be happy with the conversation we are having right now. Wasn't this sort of secrecy what got you in trouble in the first place? I thought you were afraid he would stop speaking to you again?"

Tsuzuki paused, hapless eyes widening desperately. "If it came from you--an order--then maybe he would listen. What else can I do?! If you saw what he is like lately then you wouldn't be disagreeing with me!"

"I'm not in disagreement with your assessment. I have no doubt that everything you are saying is true. However, I don't know how much a few days will help the current situation. Do you really think he would spend that time resting? Or is it more likely that he would spend it being angry that you are in the field while he is not?"

"What do I do, Tatsumi? I don't know how to help him!"

"I think that it is time you talk to him. Dancing around each other isn't going to resolve anything. You two need to come to some sort of understanding. Kurosaki-kun might be more willing to accept your help when you are on a clear footing."

"But--"

"_And_, if you need more support on the case, then I'm sure Watari-san would be willing to help. That will lift some of the burden off Kurosaki-kun, and perhaps minimize his time in the field."

Tsuzuki nodded shallowly, not satisfied at all, and glanced at his watch. "I have to go pick up lunch now. Hisoka will wonder what took me so long--" He stood up and left Tatsumi's office. He was already half way down the hall before he remembered that he wanted to request a change in hotels. He turned around, and was prepared to head back when a ball of fluffy feathers bashed into the side of his head. "Gah!"

Stumbling back a few steps, he caught the frantically hooting creature. "003?" She was clearly upset and squirming wildly in his hands. Tsuzuki watched 003's behavior carefully, and odd twinge of unease rolling through him. "I wonder where Watari--" Tsuzuki's heart dropped into his stomach. "Hisoka…"

Releasing 003, he charged down the hallway, the owl in hot pursuit. Hisoka was supposed to be visiting Watari. Watari's owl, which was usually never too far from her owner, was now alone and in quite a state. Something was wrong.

It took less than a minute for him to sprint to Watari's lab, but more than a few moments to take in the scene he'd entered upon. Hisoka was collapsed against Watari's desk, face twisted in pain. He was panting, whimpers slipping out between his parted lips. In front of him, Watari was kneeling on the ground, both sleeves of his lab coat singed.

"Tsuzuki!" Watari shouted when he spotted him. "Help me!"

Jolted back to reality, he squatted down next to Watari, where the air was thick with the smell of burnt cloth. "What happened?" Tsuzuki asked. He refrained from reaching out to Hisoka right away, seeing that Watari's arms were still healing. Hisoka was shaking as if electrified, and Tsuzuki could feel the power being gathered around his partner like a protective blanket, threatening to lash out at even the slightest threat. If he touched him, there was no doubt he'd be blasted.

"I'll explain later, just help me hold him down!" Watari picked up a syringe from where he'd dropped it.

Tsuzuki stared at the needle, making no move at first.

"It's just a sedative. Trust me. He'll hurt himself if he keeps this up."

Hisoka made a faint sound of distress as Tsuzuki reached forward, causing him pause in a jerky motion. He was scared and nervous, his heart pounding viciously in his chest at the thought of possibly hurting Hisoka further. He braced himself, ready for the energy Hisoka had gathered to lash out and burn him the second he made contact. He could handle pain, but he couldn't take seeing _Hisoka_ in pain.

"Ok," he said, his hands latching around Hisoka's arms. There was a flash, or maybe it was more like a spark behind his eyelids as he felt energy sizzle up his fingers and higher into his elbows. It didn't hurt, not as he expected. His muscles were simply frozen for a few seconds, and then the tide receded, almost like Hisoka subconsciously knew it was him; it was help.

Watari leaned forward, and yanked Hisoka's sleeve high enough so that he could insert the needle deftly into one of his veins.

Hisoka flinched back at the invasion, against Tsuzuki's grip, but the tension at his brow slowly began to fade. Then he wilted, all his limbs going perfectly limp. Tsuzuki gathered him closer as he sagged, sliding a hand behind his neck as his head lolled back, and then closer still until Hisoka was cradled in his arms. "Is he going to be ok?" He could feel his breathing while in his arms like this as well as his slowing pulse. He could feel that he was still alive in every sense a shinigami could claim.

"Some rest should help. I have a cot in my office; we can put him there for now." Watari looked like way Tsuzuki felt. His hair was frazzled and sticking up in large curlicues. His sleeves had burnt holes in them, and his flesh was still smudged with soot. Watari's face, usually animated, was drawn tightly, a hint of guilt in his eyes.

Tsuzuki carried Hisoka to Watari's office, and carefully arranged him on the narrow bed. Hisoka wasn't moving at all now, and Tsuzuki hoped that meant he was no longer dreaming, and wasn't just a byproduct of the sedative. He didn't want Hisoka to be stranded in whatever horrid dream he'd been having.

"What happened?" Tsuzuki asked in a hardened tone. Somehow he couldn't ignore his suspicion that it was Watari's fault that Hisoka was like this. His lowered gaze was too guilty. It wasn't like Watari to feel guilt over _anything_, and that he knew after seeing his undaunted usage of the office's coffee maker.

"It was an accident. I only stepped out of the lab for a moment and when I came back Bon had turned it on! I didn't think anyone would fiddle with one of my inventions! I mean, everyone always runs away, so--"

"What _happened_?! What did you do to him?!" Tsuzuki couldn't stop his anger from surfacing, even at his long time friend. Hisoka was already having such a hard time, and if Watari did anything to make that _worse_…

"I didn't _do_ anything! He just reacted…" Watari's face crumpled a little and he gave a pained sigh. "I never thought he would find out. It was more of a curious endeavor on my part. I made the prototype while I was in Kamakura, but it seemed a shame to leave it at that, so I have been developing it since I returned."

"This invention, what exactly is it?"

"An interactive hologram, that's all…but I'm still using the original subject to set the parameters of the program…" Watari ran a hand through his rumpled hair. "I knew that Bon wouldn't be happy if he found out I was using his mother to work on it, but I thought it was all harmless as long as he didn't find out."

"His mother?" Tsuzuki repeated in disbelief. "Why would you--"

"Nagare's brother Iwao was nosing around the house, and we didn't need his added distractions, so I made a hologram of Rui to convince him that she was fine. It was pretty basic, just what I could extrapolate from what little I knew about her. It worked though…and I became intrigued with what I could do with the program."

Watari's gaze settled on Hisoka's sleeping form. "I wanted to create a hologram that would be capable of interacting with its environment and respond accordingly. More than just a synthetic personality…I wanted something that could interface with an outsider's emotions and reactions to make itself more realistic."

Tsuzuki's blood felt cold, and he asked, a little sick, "So Hisoka saw his mother and she…?"

"It probably interpreted his reactions, picked up on memories…made itself into the Kurosaki Rui he recalls."

He bit his lip, a pained rush going through his chest. "But how is that even possible? A machine that can read emotions, or collect memories…how…?"

"It was a hypothesis I wanted to test. I thought that if auras were energy we expelled, radiation of our emotions or thoughts, that it could be picked up with a specialized sensor and converted into hard data. And in case someone could shield really well, the program could record things like body language, heart rate, and pupil dilation to dictate response."

"So…" Tsuzuki swallowed thickly. "Then he had to see his mother again, but she…" He could remember Hisoka's bitter words after they'd broken the spell, the way he'd been close to tears as he'd said, "That woman was never my mother."

The spell hadn't been real. No…Hisoka's parents hadn't treated him with love. The way he recalled his mother--hate. They had hated him, treated him like he was a monster--nothing--and locked him away.

"When I came back the program was running and Rui was screaming at him. Bon…he had some sort of psychosomatic response. I turned it off as fast as I could, but then he passed out and started seizing."

Tsuzuki could imagine how frightening it must have been for his partner, to see his dead mother again, debasing him _again_. He shouldn't have been alone…

"What…was she saying?"

Watari paused, looking at him once again. "Would you really want to know?"

"I asked."

"What, so you can use it as you punish yourself?" Tsuzuki blinked stunned at the depths of his friend's perception. "I know you probably want to take all the blame, as if I hadn't been the one to make the program, or Hisoka wasn't the one poking around where he didn't belong. No, it _had_ to be because you weren't there to prevent it."

"I knew he wasn't doing well. I should have stayed with him…"

"Well I'm not telling you what she said. Your guilt complex is working just fine without it. Bon will be ok. Instead of feeling so guilty all the time about everything that is going on, you could try actually talking to him and clearing up the whole mess." Watari put on a small smile. "Besides, I doubt he'll blame you. Me on the other hand…I'm sure I'll get hell when he's conscious."

"I just want him to be safe, but I haven't been able to stop any of this. He just keeps getting hurt over and over, and I'm…completely useless." The serenity on Hisoka's pale face was false. He'd seen it wet with tears, and twisted in pain all too often lately.

"You can't protect everyone all the time. I'm sure he isn't expecting you to be his knight in shining armor any more than you are expecting him to be less stubborn. There are just some things you can't do Tsuzuki, no matter how much power or determination you have, and shielding Bon from _life_ is impossible."

"But he's my partner--"

"And he'll get hurt in a myriad of ways I'm sure, and there will be very few of them you can prevent. That is how it works. All you can do is be there for him and hope that he saves himself the trouble and accepts the help. It isn't in your control Tsuzuki."

"But…" Tsuzuki's hand clenched tightly. "He won't even let me do that. I want to be there for him…but he keeps pushing me away."

"It's hard for him accept kindness. The thought of losing it probably scares him. He is afraid of being weak," Watari said.

"But how could he think that I would ever feel any different?! I told him how I felt--that I loved him, but…" But he hadn't responded, hadn't said a single word about it since, and was clearly avoiding ever bringing it up again. Maybe Tsuzuki was really the one who was afraid of losing something. Maybe if he couldn't hold on to Hisoka tightly enough…then he would left behind forever. Just like everyone else had left him. Maybe Tsuzuki was more afraid that if he didn't protect Hisoka from getting hurt, then he wouldn't be worthy enough to stay by his side, and Hisoka would be taken away.

Watari raised his eyebrows. "Really? You finally told him?"

"But he hasn't said anything. I don't know his feelings at all… What if he hates me and just hasn't told me yet?" A despondent note crept into his voice.

"Why would he hate you for loving him?" Watari asked incredulously. "It is more than obvious that Bon cares about you. He's stayed this long by your side, and was even willing to sacrifice his life in order to stay with you in the Kyoto fire." Tsuzuki flinched at the mention of the incident. Most of the time people in the bureau were tactful enough to avoid talking about it. "You don't do that if you hate a person. Most people wouldn't go that far for 'like' either."

"That was before…before I told him…"

"I'll ask again, why would your love be a bad thing? Why would he suddenly hate you for that?"

Tsuzuki shook his head, ghosts of memories rising from old scars. "People get hurt when I care about them. I'm putting him in danger because I'm selfish. And…with his past, what if he is disgusted that I'm thinking about him this way?"

"You aren't being selfish, at least not about this." Watari's eyes were sympathetic, and thankfully not pitying. He didn't need that. "You can't help who you love, and…I would bet my whole lab that Bon loves you back. I'm sure he doesn't think that your feelings are a bad thing." Then Watari grinned, a bit of playfulness coming out. "As to that last bit…I highly doubt that Bon would have kissed you if he hadn't wanted to. Not to mention how flustered he got when I brought it up."

Tsuzuki could have disagreed with Watari, but he asked instead, "You talked to him about it?"

"Bon doesn't discuss personal things like that, so I wouldn't say, 'talk,' so much as I said certain things and watched him trip over himself. But no one blushes that much over a kiss if they didn't like it."

Tsuzuki blinked, and then chewed on his lip distractedly. "Then why hasn't he said anything?"

"Well, that kind of goes back to the whole, 'afraid of being weak thing,' doesn't it? If he admits that he loves you, then he is making himself vulnerable and more liable to be hurt. That would be a big step for him. Besides, as you said, he has his past. Love isn't something that was included. The concept is probably a little beyond him."

He…was right. Hisoka hadn't been loved, or treated as he should have been. Maybe…just maybe Watari wasn't so far off the mark. It was a hard thing to trust what Watari was saying when so many fears were deeply rooted in his mind, but he wanted to believe. He wanted to hope that Hisoka could feel the same way.

"So I'd recommend talking to him--a serious talk and none of this cautious tip-toeing you've been doing."

"Tatsumi said the same thing," Tsuzuki murmured.

"Really? Well, it is good advice. You should take it."

"I…" Tsuzuki nodded, eyes glued to Hisoka's sleeping face. "Maybe I will."

qpqpqpqpqp

It was dark, so dark, and he sat away from the cold stone walls so he could stay warm. It was always so cold down here, away from people, and away from the burn of their angry emotions. He didn't know what he preferred, but the silence and the cold --black-- were maddening.

He couldn't sleep.

And the thin streams of light teased him, flowing like silken threads through the small window high on the wall of his cell. He could see blades of grass level with its base; it was just a small peek of outside.

The white light pooled in a band across the dirt floor. He edged forward until it ran over the light cotton of his yukata and danced over his upturned palm. Outside. Out of here. Beyond his mother and father. It wasn't safe out there where people's emotions became his own and made him hurt, but it was just as painful in here. _Alone_. So very, _very_ quiet.

He'd done it before, when he'd first grown tall enough to reach the window on his toes, and he was tempted to do it again. He wouldn't go too far this time, wouldn't make the mistake of being caught outside this room. If only for a short while, he wanted to go outside. The sakura were blooming now and with how his father forced his training, and his lengthening school lessons, there was a chance he would never get to see them. He didn't even know when he would be allowed out of this room for his latest transgression.

To feel the wind, not this stagnant air--even the smallest touch of something… Hisoka scraped his nails over the pebbly dirt, a hungry ache forming in his stomach.

He stood up, shivering as he lost what little heat he'd been retaining. Reaching with his arms fully extended, he ran his fingers around the edge of the window frame, pushing until the rusted metal scraped grudgingly against stone. Hisoka's breath caught as he halted his movements, listening for any signs that that his movements had been heard. More silence.

The window opened under his persistent touch, warmer air rushing down his arms and into his sleeves.

_Just for a little while… _Anchoring his feet against the grooves between icy stones, toes digging in where they could, he boosted himself up into the small opening. His elbows shook, straining to pull him high enough to get the leverage to crawl through.

He was just small enough to slide through on his belly, yukata snagging slightly on the rusted metal. He gave a final wriggle, and made it onto the grass outside. It was soft underneath him, and he lay there for a few moments reveling in it.

But he didn't have much time, the fear of being caught hovering heavily in the back of his mind. He drew himself up again, inhaling the sweet air deeply into his lungs. Tonight the moon was full, casting a high-contrast silvery blue light over the grounds that met the sharp edges of pitch-black shadows. The wind rustled through the tree branches as he walked, scattering thier silhouettes into skittering masses that he avoided.

The further he walked, the more he thought he should turn back. If he went too far, then it would take longer to get back, and he'd be discovered out of his room in the basement. Mother would be furious. But he kept pushing forward, reluctant to go back just yet. _A little more_, he'd plead desperately, fighting his logic so he could get a few more moments of freedom.

As he came up the slope of a hill, his eyes settled on the sakura at its crest, large branches snowing petals in a gust of wind. He blinked, gaze drifting down to the shape below. It was a man. It was…an angel. Everything was white and glowing just like the moon. He'd never seen someone who looked so ethereal in his entire life, and he stopped, momentarily forgetting the fear of being seen by anyone outside that room, too enthralled with the sight.

A curious emotion fluttered through him when he realized the man was embracing a woman. No…not pure enough to be an angel. Could it be that one of the help was having a midnight rendezvous with someone? He could think of no other reason why they would be on the estate grounds at this time of night…

Then he felt fear, striking him solidly between the eyes, and sending a painful spiral down his spine. His empathy shuddered under the weight of thick panic, the woman's head moving back just a second before the man plunged a knife into her back. Hisoka froze, eyes blank with disbelief. _He didn't just…_

And she crumpled, hair fanning out around her contorted face. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move--

The moon shone red. None of it was pure.

The man turned, blood splattered over the front of his white coat, a satisfied smirk twisting his face. Their eyes locked, and Hisoka knew nothing could save him. His limbs were numb as he forced them to move in succession, feet clumsily stepping back. He spun around, and a tried to run.

He didn't make it more than a few feet before--

"Ahh!" He cringed, skin crawling as he felt the man. Black tar rooted itself at the back of his throat, sinuous whispers echoing between his ears. It was wrong. He knew-- "No!"

Hands were latched, pulling, dragging him back to where he didn't want to go. They scorched his skin, leaving a wake of ruddy stains_--couldn't breathe_.

"Boy." The voice rumbled through him. He jerked forward, away, and a hand caught the back of his collar, dragging it down his shoulders roughly as he was yanked back.

"Let me go!" he begged, voice still soft from years of ingrained reprimands.

"Such a beautiful boy…" An arm ensnared his waist, while another clamped over his chest, pulling him until he was in a sickeningly tight embrace. Hisoka spasmed like a dying fish, choking on the deceptive emotions that drowned him. He hadn't had human contact in so long; he was conflicted between shocked elation and constricting horror. It hurt. The touch hurt more than the frightened maids or his angry mother. It inspired fear like nothing else he'd ever experienced.

He hunched over, feeling the man behind him only press closer.

Hot breath fanned over his bare shoulder and the man leaned into the crook of his neck, that sinful smile dragging over his flesh. On the tip of his shoulder he spoke again, sending a jolt of dread through Hisoka's core. "Such a lovely doll."

"Nya!" Hisoka tried to pry those arms from him, but his hands were skillfully plucked and then held in a strong grip.

He could feel intent, strong like an undercurrent sweeping him away. He didn't want to know what the man had planned. He didn't want to end up like that woman.

He didn't want to die!

Everyone hated him, everyone would be so happy…but he didn't _want_ to die. So many times he'd thought he'd be better off gone, but now, as he faced his potential end, he didn't want to die at all. The power of it intensified as he struggled, and he threw as much of his weight into it as he could. Frantic thoughts played out in his head until he cried a little louder, forgetting his propriety. "Don't! Let go! Hurts--"

A throaty chuckle. "That's better. That voice…"

His trapped hands were wrenched back, sending him off balance, and he fell hard face first onto the ground. He tried to scramble away, but a rough shove forced him flat, a pair of knees hovering on either side of his thighs. A tug at his waist and he could feel the loose knot of his yukata being elegantly untied, like the bow on a present.

"Please," he said in a rush of sound. "I won't tell." He was shaking, knuckles braced in the grass.

"No, you won't." He could see the man's shadow move, hovering ominously over him, and could feel the ghostly vestige of heat.

His eyes squeezed shut at the words, and he drew his body in tight, arms folding into his chest. His breath wheezed into the grass, as tears began to burn beneath his eyelids. The man leaned into him, chest against his back, and Hisoka whimpered. He could hear him extend a hand and the distinct whisper of the knife he'd dropped earlier being collected. He refused to open his eyes, but his heart raced, making his thoughts blur dizzily in his head.

Hisoka had never felt these emotions first hand, the kind he'd sense through thin walls at night, or in the long glances his mother would send his father. They were thick, rolling down his muscles in potent waves, making his breathing impossibly fast. He didn't like the feeling, or how it varied so greatly from the fear that was his own.

Just like the weight holding him down, he could not push those emotions away.

Hisoka started when his yukata was slowly peeled away from his body, exposing him, and letting in more of those insidious emotions. "Why--" More panic flowed through him as he suddenly understood the meaning of those feelings--what it meant for them to be directed at him. His body locked up further, attempting to keep the fabric on him, a thin barrier that seemed his last protection. "No!"

Cold metal tickled the hairs on the back of his neck as the tip of the knife tracked down the column of his spine. He stilled, a fearful gasp leaving him. "Be good and I'll let you go."

He didn't dare believe. It was a lie. It couldn't be true when the man felt of things like possession and power. It couldn't be true when the air smelt like blood and sakura. It couldn't be true when the moon was so big and red in the sky that it could swallow him whole.

The blade was still wet as it touched him, causing his nerves to misfire behind his eyes. He was nauseous, on the verge of being sick, but he nodded numbly anyway. He didn't want to die. Didn't want…

"That's right," the man purred, untangling his yukata from shaking limbs. He was petrified, his stomach cold and filled with a thousand little pebbles. A hand caressed his bare back and he began crying. His father always told him it was weak to cry, and had punished him for such fallible emotions over and over until he thought he had forgotten how to long ago, but now…

"N-no. No. Don't--"

Then he was turned, even as he twisted to break free, trying not be laid out vulnerable, and all he could see was that silver gaze. It was so vivid, studying him through a thick cascade of hair, like he was a priceless specimen on display. He might as well not have been there, because he recognized that glint right away; he wasn't a person to this man. He'd seen it so many times before…but never without the company of fear or disgust.

"You're crying," the man said in the most pleased way. Hisoka's hands were taken again, this time drawn through his crumpled yukata, and tied so snug he could no longer feel his fingers.

He wanted to fight, but the knife was still inches away, and ready to be used on him; his muscles jumped as he fearfully held still. But when his bound hands were forced over his head, and the man was pressing in so greedily, he couldn't help but blindly squirm away. "Stop! No--" A hand struck the side of his face, and the crack of flesh connecting rattled between his ears. When he opened his stinging eyes, it was to the sight of the fallen woman.

_Revulsion. Thick bile at the back of his tongue_.

"NO! No! Please!" Even blurred with tears he could see her soulless face, eyes staring out with horrid emptiness. Her mouth was still open in a wordless sound, blood coating her teeth and forming a line down her chin. The smell was so strong he could gag--blood everywhere--and it was touching-- "Let me go!" --her blood on the grass, on the knife, on him. He could feel it sticky and still warm, mixed with sakura petals, as his shoulder blades dug into the ground with his struggles.

Long fingers secured over his throat, squeezing just enough to make him aware of their hold. His protests died in a sputter, and a sob caught in his chest. The man bent over him, face coming within inches of his. Warm breath--moist-- fanned over his cheeks, tickling wet tear tracks. Something slick and hot followed, trailing just below his lower lashes. "Nn!" He recoiled in disgust, but the hunger in that touch only swelled, threatening to crush him with its intensity.

_Someone. Anyone. Help--Please, pleasepleaseplease…_

He couldn't block them out, hands moving, demanding more than he wanted to give. No one had ever dared touch him before, not like this, blazing trails that made his skin erupt in goosebumps. "No," he gasped, torn between mixed sensations of good and bad.

Then the man in sullied white pulled away, one palm flat just below Hisoka's rib cage. He was watching him again, one silver eye trained unerringly on his face, filled with expectancy. In a slow sweep his hand caressed down over his stomach, fingers skimming tickling trails behind. Hisoka inhaled shallowly, muscles clenching then collapsing in his abdomen. His eyes squeezed shut as the hand progressed further down between his legs.

"Ah!" A rolling shudder started in his toes and vibrated into his throat as he fought to breathe calmly, shaking his head fitfully in denial. It felt good. Better than he could remember anything feeling. But that wasn't right, couldn't be right, when it was coming at the hand of a murderer. Maybe he really was a monster if he couldn't control the moan slipping past his lips even when there was a dead woman not two feet away.

More tears welled under his eyelids, trickling down his burning cheeks. "No. Ah! S-stop!" Amusement brushed his empathy, deepening his sense of shame.

There was a shift, that hovering figure moving, but Hisoka refused see what would happen next. He didn't want to know, didn't want to be here at all, and if only he could shut out everything else-- "AHH!" His back arched, a delicious quiver rolling up tensed thighs at the wet and--_Hot_. "Hahh! Nn! N-n-no…"

It was dirty, so disgusting that he would want-- but Hisoka couldn't stop the bucking of his hips, or the strange sounds that seemed to continuously flow from him around weak protests. It was as if everything was closing in on him, a narrowing gap where he could only feel searing jolts of heat.

"No," he panted, hands tugging against the fabric holding them.

He was drowning, coherent thought and instinct being swallowed, until he couldn't hold back anymore. Fear wasn't enough. Repulsion wasn't enough. Nothing was enough to keep that heat from building in his stomach, from making his spine bend painfully, and his nails bite into his palms.

"AH!" he cried breathlessly as it finally came to an end.

His brain was left cloudy, body tired and limp. His breathing was slower to even out, small shivers still wracking his frame.

He looked up with glazed eyes, and watched in disbelief as the man licked his hand and lips clean. It was even stranger that he couldn't bring himself to wonder on how vulgar the action was, not when he was so bone deep tired.

The man's hand was still sticky as he touched Hisoka's chest, right over his erratic heartbeat. Hisoka could only muster a sharp gasp, scared to find that the man's intent hadn't wavered at all. He wasn't done yet. Wanted more from him…_more,_ and it would never end. More tears gathered in the corners of his eyes, frustration and panic overwhelming his forced lassitude.

"How perfect," the man in white said, the words rolling smoothly from his tongue, "That you would come to me."

Hisoka shook his head, eyes widening at the painful reality of where he was now. "No." His mother always called him a demon, but tonight he was with Devil himself. He was entirely at the mercy of the darkest soul he'd ever met.

He couldn't get away.

"On a night such as this…" The man was bending over him again, fingers tracing invisible lines lazily over Hisoka's skin. "When I could tie your stings." His nails grazed down from his shoulder and then unexpectedly dug in, scoring Hisoka's flesh in one sweep. "My puppet."

He screamed, pain throbbing over his chest, as blood welled to the surface. He bucked against the man, again frantic to escape.

But the man only pressed his hand to the wound and continued his drawing, the lines searing in his wake. Hisoka could hardly cry, the trail of fire so intense that he had to put all his effort in remembering how to breathe.

"AHH! No more! Please!" he forced out between clenched teeth. But all he heard in return were whispers, foreign words hissed quietly and lost in the wind. Hisoka couldn't even protest as he was turned and manipulated, red painting his whole body. "Please, anything--"

When the touch finally desisted, Hisoka was laying on his back again, panting, his whole body gripped in a clammy sweat. He wanted to vomit. His muscles, his very cells screamed, the pulsating throb of pain unrelenting now that the lines were finished. "Please…please…" he begged through trembling lips.

The man sat up, hunger coating his face much like the blood that now covered them both. A hand stroked down Hisoka's jaw, causing him to cringe, before dropping down to the man's belt and undoing the buckle.

"Please! No more. No more. N-no!" Hisoka cried, tears flowing thickly down his cheeks. Everything burned. Everything hurt. He didn't want anymore--would give anything if only it would end.

But the man smoothly pushed his pants down past his hips and he was-- "No! Nonononono…" It was a sickening surprise to see it, to know the man was hard over his inflicted pain, that he wanted-- _Wanted. _"Don't touch me!" Hisoka's voice cracked into a quivering note.

_No more. No more. No--_

"Don't!" His legs are were wrenched apart. "Nnh! Stop!" The maze of lines were blazing brightly over his body, corroding like acid, making his soul just as dirty. _Wouldn't stop. _His knees were pinned to his chest and he was--so _weak. Defenseless. Exposed. Helpless_.

No escape.

No one could hear. No one would save him.

He was all alone.

_So frighteningly alone. _

Those eyes were staring at him once again, only this time the wind caught the hair falling over the man's face and he could see that the other eye was not silver, but the blue of cold veins. It was widened grotesquely, reflecting the red moonlight, and glowing with bloodlust.

The throb in the lines covering his skin picked up tempo, like a heartbeat, until it was thrumming loudly in Hisoka's ears.

Salty tears dripped onto Hisoka's tongue as he screamed shrilly, the man's hips lurching harshly forward, tearing him in two. He was going to die! Die all alone in this killer's arms and no one would care. "AHHH! NO! No--" he sobbed. Another singular thrust and his world was exploding into a million facets of agony.

"NOOO!" Hisoka jolted awake, the shout echoing fuzzily in his ears. His body was hot all over, the curse marks pulsing invasively in his skin. His eyes were opened to their full extent, but he could only see black around him. He tried to sit up but his muscles were shaky and slow to respond.

Hisoka heard a grunt to his left and a rustle movement. He flinched, eyes anxiously trying to adjust to the dark, but he still couldn't see. He didn't know where he was or who he was with.

"Hisoka?" Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki's voice. Sleep riddled and soft and…

A hand was reaching out, grasping his shoulder. "No!" Hisoka moved away from the contact, fear and confusion mixing into panic.

"Hisoka, it's ok. It's me."

Hisoka didn't want to make the mistake to trust, not when he wasn't sure, not when dreams could twist reality into just another nightmare. His heart was hammering in his chest, and his scrambled brain tried to pick up any emotions that could reassure him that it was indeed over. There was nothing. Everything was so muddled and--

"Hey, are you alright?" Tsuzuki was reaching again and Hisoka's breath caught sharply. The hand stopped, hovering an inch from his arm.

Tsuzuki's hand retreated then, and Hisoka could hear him moving again. "I'm gonna turn on a light, ok? Sorry if it's a little bright…" There was a click and suddenly Hisoka had to pinch his eyes closed. The light made his head ache, like he was suffering from an extremely bad hangover. A thick wave of nausea rolled in his stomach, and he crumpled back into the bed, breathing slowly until it dissipated.

"'Soka?" Tsuzuki's voice sounded worried, but Hisoka couldn't feel any of his emotions. Everything was so faint… "Are you going back to sleep?"

Hisoka forced his eyes open, blinking warily against the yellow glare of the desk lamp. He could see he was in a small office now, on a bed next to an oak desk. Tsuzuki was sitting in a chair by the bed, eyes tired but focused on him. Hisoka stared back, allowing the rich amethyst to take the edge off his nerves.

"Tsuzuki?" he asked, sorely aware of how small his voice sounded. "I can't feel…" His eyes darted over Tsuzuki's rumpled suit and his mussed hair, settling on the pink imprints of his blankets on Tsuzuki's cheek. He looked real and safe and…as if he'd just been sleeping.

"What?" Tsuzuki was studying him as well. It took a moment before he seemed to understand what Hisoka meant. "You mean…" He frowned a little. "I thought that since your empathy was so sensitive it would be better if I shielded."

Everything seemed mundane just as reality should be, but the filmy quality to his perception made him cautious. Even when Tsuzuki shielded he could usually pick up on _something_. "You don't have to raise so many. You'll give yourself a headache that way…" He would have liked to feel some of the other's emotions, to have something that could distract him from his own jumbled feelings. The dull sting over his body wouldn't let him forget his dream.

The slight downturn of Tsuzuki's lips curved into a permanent display. "Don't worry, I'm not. It must be that the sedative hasn't completely worn off."

"Sedative?" That would explain why he was so drowsy.

"After you saw the hologram of your mother…" Tsuzuki waited for recognition to pass over Hisoka's face. Suddenly it all came back in vivid detail and his thoughts did another flip-flop in his skull. "You were reacting really badly so Watari gave you a sedative."

"Why did Watari have that--why her?" He closed his eyes, her image resurfacing in his mind. "What the hell was he thinking?!" He didn't like the choked quality in his voice, but damn it all if he would cry again over _her_.

If only his emotions weren't so uncontrollable, images of that night, of his mother, all intermixing and becoming hard to swallow down.

"Watari should explain it. It's the middle of the night and since you're sleeping in his bed… he went home for the night. If you want me to call him--"

"No." He wanted to say yes. He wanted that crack scientist to come right away so he could yell at him, let out all his frustration and ask him why--just _why_ he would make such a horrible device.

"'Soka…" Tsuzuki extended his hand tentatively. "Is it ok?"

Hisoka exhaled slowly and nodded, tensing only a little as he felt warm fingers curl around his own. Tsuzuki's thumb began to gently rub over the back of his hand, a small comforting motion that made Hisoka's jumpy nerves settle. Just perceptibly he squeezed back in acceptance of the touch. He opened his eyes and Tsuzuki smiled down at him.

Lifting his free hand, Hisoka pressed impatient fingers to his temple, wanting to recover from the lingering fog there and the stirring flashes of memory that refused to settle now that he was awake.

"Oh." Tsuzuki's eyes were suddenly trained on his arm, where his shirt sleeve had shifted up his forearm, revealing the angry lines of Muraki's curse. Hisoka quickly yanked out of Tsuzuki's grasp so that he could tug the sleeve to cover them, his cheeks burning shamefully. He didn't want Tsuzuki to know…

_So weak, so dirty, only a puppet--even now after he was dead--who couldn't escape._

"It's ok…" Tsuzuki said tensely. "You don't have to hide them from me."

"Well I…" Hisoka crossed his arms and tilted his head away. He didn't want anyone to look at them, to gaze at them long enough to imagine how they were laid upon his skin.

He didn't want to think about how weak he'd been, how he hadn't been able to get away until the very end, when Muraki was done with him. How cold he'd been, lying there bloody and naked, too broken to move from where Muraki had left him crumpled. Like a used doll. Like…he was nothing.

It had taken so much effort to force his body to move, to slowly drag himself back to his cell. And how he'd pathetically held himself crying, waiting for morning to come so it would all be over--how stupid he'd been!

Muraki's spell had already been eating away at him, already closing his mind so he wouldn't be able to remember what exactly had happened to him by morning, that is, until three years later when Muraki started the game all over again.

"Hisoka, please," Tsuzuki implored. He had edged so close that he was halfway off the chair and half on the cot, body a few inches from his. Tsuzuki's arms were opened invitingly. Hisoka could feel the warmth radiating towards him, offering protection like they always did. It wasn't fair that Tsuzuki made it so hard for him to act indifferent towards the painful emotions clogging his chest.

They were the emotions Hisoka denied even having…because he had never been able to show them to his mother or father. It was the part of himself he'd locked away so he wouldn't be as hurt by their words. He had quickly deemed them as useless and even shunned them himself. But they were always there, growing steadily as life continued to bury him.

But Tsuzuki didn't hate him for being weak, for crying, or even for his misdirected anger. He had _always_ been so angry at everything, thought it was better than being sad, better than letting out those melancholy emotions. Then here was Tsuzuki always accepting him with that foolish smile. He was just that, a fool like Hisoka was a fool, because he wanted Hisoka even though he was so damaged…and because Hisoka wanted him back.

Hisoka was a coward. He wanted to turn into those arms. He wanted to take everything that was being offered even when that smile made his chest feel so tight it hurt. But no matter how much he longed for it all, he couldn't admit--

Maybe…Maybe he really did want those words. If he could ever bring himself to be honest, he would own up to the fact that he wanted to hear Tsuzuki say, "I love you," over and over again. No one had ever said that to him before and it pulled at those wounded emotions he'd stowed away long ago, a needy ache that wanted nothing more than to _believe_… To hear it, to feel it so absolutely, it was all so much and he couldn't deny it.

Hisoka sat up in a clumsy force of will, and turned to Tsuzuki once again. Those eyes were gentle and looking at _him_. There was no condemnation in that gaze, nothing to make him feel like he was anything less than…a person.

He could trust him. It wasn't the first time Hisoka had thought that, but the notion kept returning in increasing intervals, never failing to astound him. He could trust Tsuzuki to hold him, to be near, and not hurt him. He could trust Tsuzuki to see his guarded emotions without turning away.

The words wouldn't come to him, the brass ones that he would usually utter to diffuse a precarious situation like this. His body didn't want to respond, to move away, and he could feel himself so close--he wanted to give in.

"Tsuzuki," he whispered thickly. If Tsuzuki would just understand and make the final move for him…so that he wouldn't have to let go of the last of his reservations. But Tsuzuki didn't come forward those last few inches. He just sat there, waiting so patiently. "You idiot…" he muttered feebly, annoyed that Tsuzuki would choose now of all times to be so stubborn. But it made his mind up for him.

He could confine himself to this place of being alone or…he could give in to what he really wanted. It was a self-conscious jerky motion that closed the gap between them, but then strong arms were instantly circling his back and rewarding his effort.

"You can talk to me. I _want_ you to talk to me," Tsuzuki whispered softly into his hair.

Hisoka shyly slipped his arms around Tsuzuki's waist and settled closer, eyes glazed with haunting memories. They came out of their hiding spots completely now, without any of his strength left to hold them back. They threatened to turn into tears if he wasn't careful.

"I--I didn't hate her." The confession took so much out of him. He didn't like to remember how it had been, how hard he strove to gain his parents approval without realizing it was a futile effort. "She was my mother…I wanted her to be proud of me." It was so much easier to handle the thought of her hating him…if he could say he hated her more. To say he didn't care…to act as if she meant nothing to him…

The chest against his cheek rose and fell in a steady calming rhythm. "I tried so hard…but I was only ever a hindrance to her…something she loathed. She was forced to tolerate me because I would succeed my father."

A small sound vibrated in Tsuzuki's throat, but he remained silent, allowing Hisoka to continue uninterrupted. He was glad…because he didn't think he would ever have this sort of resolve again. "And I actually thought it was my fault--something I wasn't doing right or something I lacked because…I was a monster."

Tsuzuki's hands tightened a fraction.

"But then that night…" His throat constricted and he found himself floundering for a moment.

A spike of emotion stretched past Tsuzuki's shields for a second but then retreated just as quickly. Hisoka wasn't sure what it meant, but he guessed that Tsuzuki understood just what night he was speaking of. It gave him some relief because he was unable to put any more words to it.

"They'd already found the body of the dead woman on the grounds…the one Muraki--" The image flashed in his mind and he swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. "When my mother came to find me in my room…" In his cold dark cell. Alone. Used. "I--I was scared and hurt and she--"

Hisoka's hands clenched into fists, and his voice rose furiously. "She thought it was me! She thought _I'd _killed her! She never asked--never once thought of me as her son! She just decided that I…that I could…" He recalled her disgusted gaze so vividly, the harsh emotions of disapproval and _embarrassment_.

"I needed someone…anyone to tell me it would be alright. Someone to tell me it wasn't my fault." His voice had gone brittle. "She was supposed to be my mother! She was supposed to give a damn! Instead she just handed me off to a maid so I could be washed up. She swept the whole incident under the rug so that no one would find out her dirty little son was a killer." No words had been exchanged. There was no questioning, nothing published in the newspapers. He never even found out the woman's name. But the blame was still there, condemning him for sins that weren't his.

"The way she looked at me…"

"'Soka…" Tsuzuki said in a hushed breath tinged with sorrow.

"Do you know how long it took before they realized I was sick? How long it took them to notice?" It had started out immediately, a heavy lethargy that he couldn't shake off. He felt drained all the time. Then began the fevers and the unexplainable aches…

"Even then they didn't want to believe. They thought I was just lying, that I wasn't really sick--just a lazy brat making up stories."

It got worse, until he couldn't get out of bed anymore. His father had yelled at him, called him worthless for slacking on his training. It didn't matter that his very bones were on fire, his joints feeling as if they were being pried apart.

He had been disintegrating, losing himself in a haze of pain, and after that his memories were like hot mud. He could remember hurting so badly he wanted to die, small snippets of clarity, and how shrill his screams became.

Hisoka continued in spite of how hard it was to let it out. It felt good in a way, to finally say these things, to know that Tsuzuki hadn't yet pushed him away. "Did you know that they didn't take me to a hospital until the very end? Only back road doctors and herbal remedies the whole time I was dying right before their eyes. They were only _ashamed _that I was dying, and only made half-hearted attempts to help me."

His eyes were burning, but he pressed them firmly shut, and turned into the worn fabric of Tsuzuki's dress shirt. "They didn't want me! They never wanted me! And when they got tired of even that farce they sent me away to die alone in some hospital miles away!"

And his mother…that dreadful woman… "She…was happy. I was finally leaving her, like a mistake about to be taken care of. I was dying and she was happy! I only wanted her to acknowledge me as her son even _once_, and she didn't even see me as a _person_."

Such an idiot to believe that she would…that she would love him. An idiot to think that him dying would make any sort of difference.

"Not once! Not even--I hate her! I HATE HER!!"

Tsuzuki didn't let go. Even as he screamed, even as he spoke so spitefully, Tsuzuki held him.

"All of them--I let them do this to me."

"No, Hisoka…"

"I never wanted anyone to hurt me ever again. I thought I would be happy once I'd found who killed me, once I had me revenge, but I'm not strong enough. I can't fight Muraki. I can't fight my mother. I--"

Hisoka's arms were clamped so hard around Tsuzuki that his muscles were cramping and he was sure he had to be hurting him, but Tsuzuki didn't show any signs of wanting to get away. "I can't fight you…" Hisoka's cheeks flamed. "I hate being alone… I can't even be on my own anymore without thinking about you. Every time I push you away you only come closer, and damn it, I--I'm happy!" His lashes trembled around forming tears. "No one has ever cared! No one…not like you…"

"Hisoka…?" Tsuzuki gasped.

"And I don't know what to do anymore, because I never say the right things! I don't know what you want; I don't know how to make you stay. Everything is so different with you--" Everything was so new and wonderful and terrifying. He could ruin it all. "I don't understand why you would ever want _me_. I'm so horrible at all of this…and I don't have anything to offer--"

"All I want is _you_. You don't have to give me anything…as long as you are with me…" Tsuzuki sounded rattled as if the conversation was too fragile to be left in his hands. "It doesn't matter what you say or what you do. Even if you do push me away, I'll still love you."

"But how can you be so sure? How can you promise…" Hisoka's heart was dancing wildly in his throat. Tsuzuki could so easily make promises even the ones he couldn't keep, but Hisoka couldn't stand the thought of Tsuzuki breaking this one.

"Because…" Tsuzuki fondly brushed his hair back, and kissed his temple. "I'm here because of _you_, Hisoka."

There was something heartening as well as demanding about that. Tsuzuki had lived for _him_. Tsuzuki was accepting a life with him in it. But that also meant that Tsuzuki's happiness relied on him, didn't it? If he did it all wrong, if he couldn't find a way to keep Tsuzuki happy--he'd want to leave again.

"What if I can't make you happy?" He couldn't make himself happy. He was hardly capable of handling a responsibility like someone else's happiness.

"But you do make me happy. By being with me…" Tsuzuki's face was buried in his hair.

But that wasn't true. Tsuzuki needed more than his mere presence. They were partners. They saw each other every day. But lately Tsuzuki was always looking at him that _way_, always burying feelings he didn't want Hisoka to know he had. Tsuzuki did want more. Even if he didn't confess to it, Tsuzuki wanted more than what friendship could offer.

It was dangerous. Tsuzuki liked contact, craved closeness, but those were the very things Hisoka was wary of. He wasn't comfortable exchanging indulgent shows of affection. And what if he _did_ make it that far? What more would that lead to?

He wasn't enough. Even if Tsuzuki didn't realize it now, eventually he would get tired of Hisoka's inhibitions, and would expect more.

"And if I could make you happy too…" Tsuzuki's voice was muffled but passionate. "That is all I want."

Only Tsuzuki would care about such a thing…only Tsuzuki…would worry about what he was feeling. If it was Tsuzuki, then he would give him time, would help him so he could be more honest with what he felt. Hisoka wasn't giving him enough credit. Tsuzuki was still here, wasn't he? If he'd gone through all the trouble to stay with him this far, then maybe Hisoka was just underestimating what love meant.

"Stay then," he uttered quietly. "Don't give up on me."

**AN: **So their you have it, noncon and fluff all in the same chapter.

Ok, and since I am trying to follow the manga as literally as possible and I can't ignore my logic… in my version of the Muraki rape scene Muraki doesn't carve the curse into Hisoka's skin. There are three major reasons for this: One, Hisoka wouldn't have been able to survive or at the very least stay conscious with that much blood loss (that and can you imagine the sorts of infections Hisoka would get from that?) Secondly, Hisoka wears sleeveless shirts and tank tops way too much in the manga and no one ever says anything or otherwise indicates that he has scarring…that and we SEE him naked and there isn't anything there. Thirdly, in the rape scene in volume three (pg 121) we see Hisoka has the 'claw' marks across his chest overlaying the lines of the curse. The scratches are much darker than the lines indicating that they are not cuts. And so while it is really cool to think that the curse was literally carved into Hisoka's skin (and I do enjoy the morbidity of the idea) I'll be going this way.

And see, I managed to update sometime this year (bad pun). Thank you so much for reading! I hope I didn't scar anyone. .

Reviews are appreciated!


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: **I'm so sorry this took FOREVER! I got a few messages from fans during my long absence, so I'd like to let you all know that I haven't died, and I most definitely haven't given up on this story. I just happen to be a college student, or should I say a _poor_ college student, so on top of my school work load, I have a job that I spend a great deal of my life at.

So please forgive me if my updates are snail pace. I am trying, and I'll work harder at speeding up my posts.

Accept this chapter in way of apology. (P.S. it might help to reread ch 7 or the end of ch7 before this one since it has been so long.)

*bows humbly* Thank you for your patience.

**Chapter 8**

Tsuzuki thought he must be dreaming. Surely he wasn't in Watari's office holding onto a tremulous Hisoka as he revealed more emotionally than he ever had throughout the duration of their partnership.

Hadn't he been sleeping minutes ago? And hours before, hadn't he thought Hisoka hated him? Now here he was, Hisoka's words repeating slowly in his head, reaffirming that he'd heard correctly. No, not quite a confession of love, but as close as someone like Hisoka would come.

Tsuzuki returned the tight embrace, basking in the silence that had descended after Hisoka's last words some time ago. He was still mindful of Muraki's curse, angry red under the thin material of Hisoka's shirt, still cautious not make a wrong move. They were in a perfect balance, and right now Hisoka wasn't fully aware of the position they were in. One word spoken out of place, even a shift of muscle, could be enough to make Hisoka suddenly feel awkward.

Tsuzuki didn't want that. He wanted to stay like this for as long as possible. Hisoka was warm and pressed close in a natural fit. Tsuzuki could feel him breathing, calm now, and the tight band of his arms around his back. Tsuzuki smiled. After how upset Hisoka had been, perhaps his happiness was inappropriate, but he couldn't help himself.

So he tucked his face against Hisoka's hair instead, wanting to hum contentedly.

He could stay forever like this, would never even think of giving up on Hisoka if he could have this.

There was so much Hisoka kept inside him, much more pain that Tsuzuki had imagined, but it only made him feel closer somehow. After all, Hisoka had revealed his painful wounds to him, trusted him explicitly, and that meant more than any words of devotion he could have possibly spoken.

It didn't take long for warm sleepy contentment to take over, tugging at his eyelids and lulling him towards sleep. He was comfortable now, much more than he had been in that hard fold out chair, and Hisoka was a pleasant weight in his arms.

"CUCKOO! CUCKOO!"

Hisoka jerked upright, eyes instantly locking on the offending noise. Tsuzuki groaned, annoyed that the moment had been ruined. He should have been expecting the interruption. After all, Watari's stupid cuckoo clock had been going off every hour.

The tiny yellow bird cawed four times, signaling that they were in the early morning hours.

Hisoka was blushing again, his hands how folded rigidly in his lap. They were apart now, the gap between them disconcerting after the closeness of just moments before. Tsuzuki's heart sank, and he vowed to destroy the cuckoo clock regardless of what Watari said.

Tsuzuki tried to come up with the right words, something to reclaim the lost moment, but couldn't think of any. Instead, he settled for some that would ease Hisoka's current embarrassment.

"You should get some more rest before morning…Then you can rip Watari a new one, ok?"

"Can't I go home?" Hisoka asked hesitantly.

Tsuzuki fidgeted on the edge of the bed. He wanted to say yes just so Hisoka wouldn't sound so miserable, but knew better. Hisoka should stay in the office until Watari had a chance to give him a check up. After what happened, Tsuzuki wouldn't leave Hisoka alone.

"I think it would be better if you stayed here. At least until Watari says you are well enough to leave." Tsuzuki bit his lip and suggested, "I'll be right here so you should sleep for a couple more hours. I know how tired you've been lately."

Hisoka stared at him for a moment, crossing his arms securely over his chest, before mumbling, "The bed is hard. It hurts my back."

The bed wasn't comfortable, but Tsuzuki doubted that was Hisoka's true reason for turning down sleep. He smiled understandingly instead of voicing his suspicions, and suppressed a yawn. Tsuzuki was tired, but if Hisoka wasn't going to sleep, then neither was he. "How about some tea then?"

Hisoka nodded before scooting back on the bed so that he could lean against the wall.

"I'll be right back." Tsuzuki left the office hoping the tea wouldn't take too long to boil. Watari had a counter in his lab full of teas and coffee that he knew he could make use of at his own risk.

After few minutes, Tsuzuki filled two mugs with hot water, and noticed his hands were shaking a little. He watched them for a minute and then let out a short laugh. Hisoka was worried about making _him_ happy. Hisoka wanted him to stay, even after everything that had happened, even after Tsuzuki confessed that he loved him. Hisoka didn't think it was wrong of him, didn't hate him for his feelings. It was such a profound relief. Hisoka felt the same way. Somehow this reassurance alone was enough for Tsuzuki. They could face anything else that was to come, any problem at all, as long as they stood together.

Hisoka had spoken so passionately about his mother, about how she had treated him, and Tsuzuki knew that it would take a lot of effort to make up for how Hisoka was treated in the past. It wouldn't be easy to work around those walls…but he felt ready for the challenge. After all, Hisoka had told Tsuzuki not to give up on him.

Not that that was ever an option.

Tsuzuki added sugar to one of the mugs and finished with a quick stir. The whole situation was rather bittersweet, and no matter how he tried to contain it, a smile was now permanently on his face.

He'd just waited so long…and now Hisoka seemed to finally be returning some of his feelings.

Tsuzuki carried the two cups of tea from the counter back to the office. Hisoka was still sitting in his position against the wall, and he was picking at the hem of his shirt sleeve in an agitated manner.

Tsuzuki wondered if the curse hurt. He'd seen Hisoka grimace before but was never sure if it was the memories behind it or from actual pain. He never asked.

Handing his partner one mug, Tsuzuki scooted onto the vacant bed space beside him. They didn't often sit this close together, and Tsuzuki hoped he wasn't miscalculating by doing so now. Hisoka didn't shift away however. He only sipped at his tea quietly.

Tsuzuki drank from his own cup for several moments before asking, "Are you feeling better?"

Hisoka ran a finger along the rim of his mug pensively. "I suppose."

"Good." Tsuzuki looked him over out the side of his vision. "That's good."

"When does Watari usually come in?" Hisoka asked.

"Hm…I don't really know. He sleeps here most of the time so he doesn't have a clear schedule, does he?"

Hisoka's head was bowed even as he continued to drink from his tea. "Maybe the marks will have faded by then," he whispered into his cup.

Everyone in the office was aware that Hisoka died due to a curse placed on him by Muraki. No one except Tsuzuki was privy as to how it had been, nor did they know that the curse was still marking him even after death. It had to be difficult for Hisoka to hide such things, but Tsuzuki would be there for him, would help him keep it a secret if that was what he wanted.

"They will." Tsuzuki leaned a little to the left until their shoulders brushed. Hisoka tilted into the touch and closed his eyes.

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Hisoka's head had made the progression to Tsuzuki's shoulder by the time Watari came in, and while Tsuzuki doubted Hisoka was asleep, he couldn't deny that he'd fallen into a light doze himself.

He awoke when Hisoka's weight lifted from his side suddenly, and not a second later the office door opened.

"Good morning--ah…Bon, it's nice to see you are awake…" Watari stepped in cautiously, a nervous smile twitching on his lips.

Hisoka's fury came back full force, a scowl and sharp glare locking onto Watari with the precision of a predatory bird. "Good morning," he said frostily.

"Uh, Tsuzuki, when did our patient wake up?" Watari asked slowly, as if Tsuzuki should have forewarned him.

"Don't worry," Hisoka said in a tone that would most definitely have Tsuzuki worried if it were directed at him. Tsuzuki decided that as much as he loved his dear friend, Watari was on his own for this one. He could take it as repayment for his choice of wall clocks. "I've only been awake for a little while…just long enough for Tsuzuki to fill me in on your experiment out there."

Watari shuffled his feet fretfully. Tsuzuki was impressed. He'd only seen Watari respond like that to one of Tatsumi's threats.

"Although I'm sure Tsuzuki couldn't explain it half as well as you. Perhaps you would care to tell me _why_ you decided it was a good idea to create a hologram of my mother?"

"Well Bon, to be fair…I used it during the Kamakura case. I'm sure the case file mentioned that I had to distract Iwao-san…"

Hisoka's expression hardened further if such a thing were possible. "No, it didn't. Nowhere in there did it say that you used my mother as an _experiment_."

"It wasn't meant that way!" Watari defended. "Honestly, I didn't mean any harm. I didn't want to hurt you Bon--"

"You didn't want me to _find out_. You thought that as long as I didn't find out it was ok to make that device using my mother--to make a mockery of my family!" Hisoka hadn't moved at all, but his body was tense, hands clenched in his lap.

"That isn't what I was doing! I was just making a program. I shouldn't have used your mother, but--"

"No, you shouldn't have! You had no right!" Hisoka jerked forward, springing off the bed so that he could stand in front of Watari. Even though Hisoka was shorter than Watari, his temper more than made up for the height difference. His anger was an intimidating force. "I want you to destroy that _thing_!"

"But if you'd only allow me to explain, then you'd understand how unique the program is!" Watari said imploringly. "I apologize for using your mother like I did, but the program is--"

"I don't give a damn!" Hisoka's fists were shaking and Tsuzuki wondered if Watari was about to be decked. "Get rid of that thing or I'll do it myself!"

"Bon, if you'd just--"

The office door swung open. Tatsumi stood there, and Tsuzuki watched as he silently took in the scene. Watari's hands were still raised defensively and Hisoka looked flushed and ready for a fight. When Tatsumi's gaze finally flickered to him, Tsuzuki gave him a small smile in greeting.

"I apologize if I interrupted." True to character Tatsumi didn't ask what he'd interrupted. Tsuzuki knew it was a futile effort though, because every complaint in all of JuOhCho made it to Tatsumi's desk sooner or later, usually with some sort of large bill attached that later got Tsuzuki in trouble. "It is nice to see you so _active_ this morning, Kurosaki-kun. Watari-san informed me that you were unwell last night."

"Yeah, and did he tell you _why_? Did he tell you what he is currently working on?!" Hisoka asked angrily.

Tatsumi was unfazed, or at least appeared that way. Tsuzuki could tell by the way he fastidiously rearranged the folder in his hands that he was uncomfortable. He must have _known_.

"Regardless of whatever Watari-san is working on, I came with more pressing matters. So if you could please put whatever disagreement you are having on hold, Kurosaki-kun, I'd appreciate it."

Hisoka's mouth snapped shut, but Tsuzuki could feel his barely reined-in rage. Tsuzuki thought it wasn't fair that Tatsumi was letting Watari off the hook. Hisoka's feelings shouldn't have to be put to the side just like that. Tsuzuki was about to protest when Tatsumi held up the folder he was carrying and cleared his throat demandingly.

"Another body was found this morning. Due to several similarities with our victims, it was instantly flagged. The scene should be fresh, so no need to visit the morgue this time."

As long as they went to the crime scene as soon as possible that is. Tsuzuki sighed. It couldn't be helped that the case took priority over personal matters…

"The woman is in her late twenties, and was found in a hospital gown."

"Did she have a tattoo as well?" Tsuzuki asked as he stood up. He discreetly laid a supportive hand on Hisoka's shoulder and was relieved when it wasn't rejected.

"That you'll have to find out for yourself. Go down to Chijou and decide if this has any ties with your case."

Tsuzuki nodded.

Watari spoke up. "Tatsumi, I would like to go along with Tsuzuki. I haven't had a chance to give Bon a check up yet so I wouldn't feel comfortable releasing him to field work. Besides, I would be better suited since I know what to look for. If I may…" Tsuzuki was surprised at how unremorseful Watari sounded. Under his hand Hisoka tensed further.

"Very well. Tsuzuki-san, Watari-san, I trust you to carry out the given task in a fast and thorough fashion." Tatsumi handed the folder to Watari and immediately left the office. Tsuzuki wondered if he was in such a hurry simply so he could avoid any protests Hisoka might have.

Turing to his partner, Tsuzuki smiled in apology. "I'm sorry. We'll be back soon, I promise." This was what he'd asked Tatsumi to do…but somehow it felt wrong when Hisoka's gaze burned irately.

"This isn't over," Hisoka said grudgingly to Watari.

Watari just smiled in a placating manner. "I know. Just sit this one out. We'll worry about the rest later, ok?"

Tsuzuki shot Hisoka one last look over his shoulder as they left.

Qpqpqpqpqp

It wasn't a park this time. In spirit form they approached the crime scene which was in a small back alley. The police were keeping any curious passerbys from entering the area, and some were talking to one another in strained voices. Someone with a camera was documenting the condition of the body and as Tsuzuki got near enough to see it, he understood why he was being so thorough.

Watari said in a hushed voice, "Somehow I don't think she died of a heart attack."

There was blood everywhere. Tsuzuki's stomach automatically clenched at the sight of it…at the faint smell. The woman was lying on her side, hospital gown twisted and torn lewdly around her form, pallid skin exposed. Tsuzuki's eyes were instantly drawn to her abdomen which was torn open, blood and uncontained organs spilling forth. He stared at the display, transfixed with the gory quality of it, until Watari's voice pulled him back to reality.

"She has one too."

It took longer than it should have for Tsuzuki to understand what he meant, but slowly his eyes trailed up to the woman's breast bone and he saw that she had a tattoo just like Suetsugu-san and Honda-san.

"What's her name?" Tsuzuki suddenly wanted to know, a part of him feeling the familiar guilt that came from not solving a case before more innocents got hurt.

Watari opened the folder Tatsumi had given him. "The only soul listed in the Kinseki from this area that hasn't arrived yet is Atsuya Masako. This is most likely her." Tsuzuki tried to remember if her name was on the list of missing persons, but Hisoka had been looking over that information so he couldn't be sure.

"Let's get a closer look," Watari said.

Tsuzuki wasn't inclined to get closer, but then again he'd gotten used to this part of the job years ago. The sights, smells, sounds, and sometimes even the textures still haunted him, but he could always get the job done.

The man finished taking photos of the body and stepped away just as Watari knelt next to her. Head cocked to the side, he inspected the gaping hole in Masako's stomach.

Tsuzuki studied her hands instead, trying to see if any evidence of her killer had been left behind, like under her nails. When he didn't find any, he followed the path of her arms, noting she had needle marks as well and thick bruising around her wrists, and then continued on to her face. There were no marks on her face but plenty more blood. Thankfully, her eyes were closed.

Her long brown hair was fanned out around her, some of it partially congealed with blood. His eyes swept over the stands, back down, and then stilled at an irregularity.

"Watari," he said breathlessly.

"Hm?"

Watari looked up, dragging his eyes away from his what held his interest. Tsuzuki simply pointed to the spot and waited until understanding dawned on Watari's face.

"A piece of her hair is missing," Tsuzuki said.

"So is her uterus," Watari added.

"What?"

"She's cut open. Everything is accounted for except for her uterus. I'd say she'd had a hysterectomy but it looks fresh. It's been completely severed from her other reproductive organs."

Tsuzuki made a face. Why would anyone do that?

"But the hair…" Tsuzuki glanced at the place where the locks were missing from. "It's just like…"

"The case in Kyoto," Watari finished for him.

Tsuzuki swallowed thickly. He'd thought Muraki had been killed by Toda's fire if not by the knife he'd driven into his side, but once Hisoka had shown him that the curse was still active Tsuzuki knew that he was alive. And then Muraki's name never showed up in the Kiseki…his candle still glowed somewhere in The Hall of Candles…and everyone knew the truth.

Ever since that day, somewhere in the back of his mind, Tsuzuki had been expecting Muraki to come back. He'd been afraid that Muraki would continue those ruthless games of his…

"It's Muraki," Tsuzuki stated painfully.

"We can't say that for sure. What reason would Muraki have to remove a woman's uterus? The other two bodies were intact."

Tsuzuki shook his head. "But they are in _hospital_ gowns. And her hair is cut. It's like he wanted us to know it was him."

"Or someone else wanted you to _think_ it was him." Watari locked eyes with him. "I'm not saying that Muraki doesn't seem like the most obvious suspect right now, but don't rule anyone else out either. Besides…we haven't heard a peep out of the good doctor for months. I know he made it out of the Kyoto fire alive, but I doubt he was unscathed."

"You're…right," Tsuzuki agreed, not truly believing it.

Watari pointed at the woman's feet. "And she didn't get here on her own. Her feet aren't the least bit dirty. There is a chance that she was already dead and the body was dumped here. The wound to her stomach looks postmortem. There should be _more_ blood if this was done while she was alive."

Tsuzuki was internally grateful that the woman hadn't been alive when she was gutted.

"So we don't know the cause of death then?" Tsuzuki asked.

Watari shook his head. "Besides the laceration on her stomach and a few bruises, there aren't any other outwards signs on her body."

"You think the police will allow an investigation? There are three bodies now." Tsuzuki closed his eyes for a moment, anger bubbling to the surface.

"It is a series of murders, so they'll have to do something to stop any more deaths."

Muraki. It had to be him. Why else would it happen like this? It was in his sector, hair cut just like Muraki's signature during his cloning experiments in Kyoto. Hisoka had said that the women were being experimented on. All the victims had been used, demon underlings doing someone's bidding. If it wasn't him then who?

"Hisoka is already having so much trouble right now…" Tsuzuki sighed. "I wish Muraki's name didn't have to come up at all." He didn't want to bring Hisoka that pain again. Only this morning Hisoka had been shaking in his arms, Muraki's curse etched on his skin, a reminder of just how much the man had hurt him in the past.

"We can't lie to him. We have to be truthful about what we found and the others can draw their own conclusions. You wouldn't want him in the dark in case…it does turn out to be him, would you?"

"No…of course not." Hisoka couldn't be protected from the truth.

Tsuzuki's stomach felt queasy and it had nothing to do with the blood everywhere. Muraki, he…

Even now, after time had passed, Tsuzuki was afraid. It was probably cowardly of him after what Hisoka had been through--had survived, but… Muraki had a way of burrowing into his head, of making him feel things--think things…

Three days. Tsuzuki hadn't known how long he'd been with Muraki until later. At the time it had seemed like years, his awareness slipping in and out of focus in agonizing intervals. He couldn't remember all of what happened, the exact words Muraki had whispered sinuously in his ear, but what he could recall was enough.

Tsuzuki was afraid of the man. He didn't want to see him again--feel him--and the thought that he could be trying to lure Tsuzuki out again by killing more innocent people was enough to--

_I feel sick. _"I'm going to take a look around," Tsuzuki said as he walked away from the body.

Watari didn't stop him. When Tsuzuki came to a halt halfway down the alley, he breathed deeply, taking in the cleaner air and trying not to think about memories like _that_. Hisoka was waiting back in Meifu after all. He'd promised that they would be fast with their investigation here.

Collected, Tsuzuki scoured the alley for anything the killer might have left behind. He was disappointed when he found nothing.

All too soon, the police finished documenting the crime scene, and the body was moved into a body bag. They'd run out of time.

qpqpqpqpqp

"Really Bon, I'd rather you not touch--"

"Then tell me where you put it!"

Tsuzuki and Watari had returned to find Hisoka searching Watari's lab. Tsuzuki wondered when Watari had the chance to hide his invention. It must have been the during the previous night before he'd gone home.

The scene now was almost comical after coming back from the gore of the crime scene. It was an easy distraction that he was somehow grateful for.

Hisoka opened another cupboard frowning crossly. Tsuzuki thought that Hisoka was being rather thoughtful considering nothing was broken or being moved out of place. He was an efficient hunter.

"Alright, I won't work on it anymore! Jeez!"

Hisoka pulled at another cabinet door and huffed. "It's locked. Give me the key!"

Watari tossed up his hands. "I already said I wouldn't work on it! Besides, that thing isn't anything more than a _projector_ without the program finished."

Hisoka spun on his heel and crossed his arms, his glare increasing ten fold. "Then delete the program."

"Bon…"

Tsuzuki looked on with hidden amusement, 003 perched on his shoulder as another spectator. He knew that when Hisoka was in a cranky mood he was harder to budge than Mt. Fuji. Tsuzuki was just waiting to see which came sooner, Watari cracking or Hisoka going ballistic. Watari's large science textbooks looked really heavy…

"I know you, you'll say you won't do something and then start working on it the second you think no one is watching. How many times a week do you spike the office coffee? Delete it now!"

Tsuzuki glanced at his wristwatch. They were going to be late getting to the meeting room if this didn't end soon.

Watari rolled his eyes. "Fine. Don't say that I don't do anything for you! Man, and I was so close to finishing…" Watari broke off grumbling as he sat down at his desk. Hisoka stood impatiently as Watari booted up his laptop.

Tilting the screen so that Hisoka could see it, Watari hovered his pointer finger dramatically over the delete button. "See, deleting it." Then he pushed the button and clicked the secondary demand that ensured it would be deleted. "All gone. Now you can stop playing seek and destroy in my lab."

Hisoka relaxed his stance a little now that his task was accomplished, but still held grudgingly onto his glare. "You're still a bastard," Hisoka said darkly.

Tsuzuki thought that Hisoka wasn't as angry as he tried to appear. Then again, it was difficult to be mad at Watari because he didn't respond to anger like normal people would, that and he seemed incapable of feeling guilty for more than two minutes.

"Hardy har har. You're such a dear."

Hisoka's eyes narrowed and Tsuzuki thought it would be best to run interference before the argument escalated again. "Um…shouldn't we head over to the meeting room now? Tatsumi will be annoyed if we are late."

"Right!" Watari logged into his desk computer where the decoding program had finished some time during the night. Tsuzuki thought it was strange that it had taken so much longer to complete than when they'd decoded Hijiri's contract.

Watari glanced over the screen's contents, his brows furrowing a little. He said nothing however, and just copied the results onto a USB drive.

Although Tsuzuki was curious he figured he would find out the results once the meeting started.

Tucking his laptop under his arm Watari stood up and said, "Let's not leave anyone waiting."

A little while later everyone settled into the meeting room silently, although the atmosphere was anything but serene. Hisoka was like a bristling cat, his rancor not entirely appeased. The fact that Watari had kept him from going to the crime scene coupled with his lack of compunction for the whole ordeal, only served as more fuel for the fire. Watari was keen on avoiding Hisoka altogether now and instantly seated himself close to Tatsumi. Tsuzuki sat on the other side of the table and let out a relieved breath when Hisoka sat beside him. It was somehow refreshing for someone else to be on the receiving end of Hisoka's bad mood. At least Watari wouldn't be working on Rui's hologram anymore.

Tatsumi cleared his throat, casting a baleful look over the table, probably unhappy that they were ten minutes late to the impromptu meeting. "Does this latest death seem to be connected with the first two?"

Straight to the point.

Tsuzuki started by saying, "She had a tattoo like the other women so it is definitely related."

He would leave Watari to explain the rest. The whole situation was unpleasant. Tsuzuki was still on edge, the prospect of Muraki being involved occupying his thoughts. Hisoka was already upset over last night and Tsuzuki didn't want to see his reaction after this latest news.

But if he wasn't thinking about that, then he was seeing that woman, disemboweled and bloody. Guilt and anxiety twisted in his gut but on the outside he worked hard to look calm.

Beside him, Tsuzuki noticed Hisoka flinch. His guilt only increased when his partner's gaze left Watari and landed on him. The coldness left them and they softened in question. Tsuzuki swallowed and tried to raise more shields. He'd thought he'd been doing a good job of containing his emotions but Hisoka was being more perceptive than usual. Their eyes met for a second but then Tsuzuki was looking away.

"Was there any evidence left by the perpetrator?" Tatsumi asked.

"The crime scene was distinctly different from the first one," Watari said theatrically. "The woman was _eviscerated_." Tsuzuki thought the dramatic air Watari used was uncalled for, and watched as Tatsumi had a short coughing fit.

Everyone settled down quickly however, and Watari went into a detailed explanation of what they had seen at the crime scene. Tsuzuki noticed that Watari purposefully left out one piece of evidence, and he wondered if he was stalling.

When Watari was done, Hisoka said, "Then they were killed by someone involved with the kidnappings. Why would they dump the body though? Isn't that just drawing more attention to themselves?"

Tsuzuki understood what Hisoka meant. Honda-san and Suetsugu-san had escaped and then died in the park by Honda-san's hand. Their bodies being found was something outside the control of whoever was orchestrating this. However, this latest victim had been intentional.

"Someone wanted us to find her," Tsuzuki said. She'd died just to call their attention, a wasted life, that would hang in the back of Tsuzuki's mind along side all the other lives that he'd failed to save.

"Yes, but what were they trying to say?" Tatsumi thought aloud.

Watari glanced pointedly at Tsuzuki causing him to tense. "We did notice something else while we were examining the body." He paused and then continued, "A piece of the victims hair was missing, or more precisely, cut off."

Tsuzuki's eyes darted to his left so that he could see Hisoka's reaction. At first it looked as if he hadn't heard, but then Tsuzuki saw that his hands were shaking where they gripped the denim at his knees. Tsuzuki swallowed painfully, wishing there was a discreet way he could extend some comfort.

Watari went on quickly, "This was obviously done as a sign to us."

"It's _him_," Hisoka hissed.

"We don't know that. I mean, what better way for someone to make us think it's Muraki than to use his calling card," Watari reasoned.

At the mention of the doctor's name, Hisoka's fingers clenched tighter in his lap until the knuckles turned white.

"Or course it's him. It all fits doesn't it?!"

"Or it was made to look that way," Watari countered.

Tsuzuki was a little shocked at how sure Watari sounded.

Before Tsuzuki could say anything Hisoka shouted, "You should have let me do my job! I would have known if it was him if I'd been there. I could have gone--"

"Bon, your empathy is overly stressed. Give it, and yourself, a rest. Even if you'd been there under no circumstances would I have allowed you to use your empathy. Certainly not in a place like that."

Tsuzuki had to agree. Surrounded by death and the disgust of a dozen cops, Hisoka wouldn't have stood a chance. Not how things had been lately.

"You--" Tsuzuki cut Hisoka off by placing a hand on his shoulder. Hisoka inhaled sharply but then shut his mouth, calming a little.

"Besides," Watari said carefully, "Whoever is behind this is a demon and when I last checked Muraki is human." There, Tsuzuki could hear that conviction again and understood that Watari must know more than they did.

"What do you mean?" Tatsumi asked first.

"I know why the tattoos on the women looked so familiar to me now--they are indicias," Watari said.

"Indicias…. I remember reading something about those in that book you lent me." Hisoka murmured.

Tsuzuki felt a sick squirming sensation in the pit of his stomach. "Are you sure you aren't mistaken and it isn't just a pact…?"

Hisoka glanced at him in confusion. "What is the difference?"

Watari explained solemnly, "Indicias are marks placed on the 'property' of demons, almost like a signature. Each demon has his own unique indicia. Before The Treaty was signed, humans could be taken against their will and marked with an indicia like cattle. It sort of brands the soul and gives the demon control over it. Of course only high level demons were capable of controlling souls without having to create a contract. When The Treaty was signed, indicias were outlawed, so that the only way demons could obtain a soul, a prime food source for them, was if they made a pact and completed the terms of whatever contract was formed."

Tatsumi nodded his head as he said, "The only real difference between an idicia and the mark of a contract is that one is made willingly and the other is forced using a complicated and powerful spell."

"So only a demon could have done it?" Hisoka asked.

"Yes, and one that is pretty strong. The mark is completely decoded on my computer and I'm absolutely sure it is an indicia. The base spell was dead on. However, according to the results, the signature isn't in the database."

"How is that possible?" Tsuzuki asked restlessly. "We should have any demon powerful enough to place an indicia in Meifu's database. It takes a lot of force to subjugate a person's soul."

Watari plugged in his USB drive and then turned his laptop so that they could view the dissected shapes of the tattoo. Tsuzuki stared at the screen for a few seconds and conceded that Watari was right. A pact would hold the terms of the contract, however the only words inscribed inside the mark were those of ownership. The spell was much more complex. No wonder it had take so long to decode.

"So this is what prevented the souls from coming to Meifu," Hisoka said.

"No matter where the body was, the owner of the indicia could call the soul back." Watari shrugged. "What they'll use it for, we can't know for sure. It might already be food by now."

Hisoka's gaze hardened under Tsuzuki's watchful eye. "Don't say things like that," Hisoka admonished. Tsuzuki knew that Hisoka felt more responsibility to the women since his vision at the first crime scene.

"Either way, this is a serious crime," Watari shot back.

"Enma won't like this," Tatsumi added after a moment.

"Well no, this makes things a whole lot more complicated." Watari jabbed is finger at the core string of symbols that was the signature. "Whoever placed this will need to be captured and tried."

"But all we know is that they are capturing people with strong psychic abilities and experimenting on them. We don't know what they want them for, or where they are being held," Tsuzuki pointed out.

"And besides the fact that the killer is a demon, we have no leads," Hisoka added.

Watari frowned. "It doesn't help matters that I was only able to obtain a blood sample from the first two victims, considering that I couldn't perform any more invasive procedures on the bodies, and that only gave me basic tox screens."

"Did you find any drugs in their systems?" Hisoka asked with interest.

"It is difficult to test for everything with just a blood sample, but so far I have ruled out some drugs that would come to mind first. I haven't found anything unusual in their systems so far. It is difficult since the drugs could already be metabolized and might not show up in blood work. I'd get better results if I had a sample from their internal organs such as the liver."

"So you have no idea what they were doing to them?" Tsuzuki asked.

"Not yet. Good news is that now that there is a third body there might be a full investigation and Mr. Coroner can finally get to work."

Hisoka sat back in his chair and let out a heavy sigh. "That doesn't leave us with much. I suppose we could begin looking into other missing persons with psychic abilities in Fukuoka, and check the latest victim's house. Maybe someone will know something."

"That seems like the best course of action to follow. I'll take care of things on this end," Tatsumi agreed.

Silence descended, signaling that the meeting had already drawn to a close. There was nothing else to discuss until they had more information.

Tsuzuki stood up, and waited for Hisoka to join him. "Can we get breakfast now? I'm starving!"

Hisoka rolled his eyes as he got up as well and then walked with Tsuzuki from the room. "How can you be hungry at a time like this? Really…I don't understand you sometimes."

"Ah, but my tummy is grumbling! We have to feed it or it won't be happy."

"Whatever."

qpqpqpqpqp

Watari waited for Tsuzuki and Hisoka to leave the meeting room, his right hand distractedly tapping a pen against the tabletop. This wasn't good. Nope, not good at all.

He turned his head and watched Tatsumi for a moment, wondering if he should be the first to speak or if Tatsumi would take the honor. He tapped his pen a little harder and then gave it a twirl. Tatsumi was shuffling some papers he'd brought with him to the meeting for no apparent reason. Maybe he wanted to look like he was busy without it seeming intentional?

Irritated at being ignored, Watari moved his leg so he could brush his foot teasingly against Tatsumi's calf. Tatsumi jumped in his chair, the stack of papers falling to the tabletop with a loud thwack. Tatsumi gave him a disgruntled look before he pushed his glasses higher on his nose.

"You wanted my attention?" Tatsumi asked in exasperation. Watari nodded, a huge grin on his face. "And you couldn't have done that in a normal fashion?"

"What would be the fun in that?"

Tatsumi stared at him with a dry and unamused expression. Watari was used to it. Since the Kamakura case they'd gotten closer, but Tatsumi had yet to make an actual move. He was more likely to give in to Watari's persistent efforts now, even seemed to enjoy indulging him at times…but hadn't responded in the one way Watari was hoping for.

Really, Watari thought as he tapped his pen even faster, Tatsumi was either just that dense or wasn't interested. He hoped it wasn't the latter. He'd upped his game since Kamakura, all but throwing himself at the man, with little reward. Maybe if he walked into Tatsumi's office naked with money strapped to his body…

"I'm not much in the mood for your antics," Tatsumi said tiredly.

"Worried about Bon and Tsuzuki?"

"Yes, and what Enma-daioh is going to do once it is reported that indicias have been used."

Watari frowned. "You don't think he already knows?"

Tatsumi raised his eyebrows. "What makes you think he knows? If he knew that something of this sort was happening then surely Tsuzuki-san and Kurosaki-kun wouldn't have been given the case."

"That is _precisely_ why they would be given the case." Watari thought it was foolish to trust that Enma would consider their well being. "Just where did this case come from, hm? I'm guessing it wasn't the Hall of Candles."

Cases came into the Shokan division via three ways: when it was a matter involving souls and their death or lack thereof it came from The Count, when it was a paranormal phenomena, often including demons that couldn't be taken care of by the local onmyoji, then it was sent by the lower offices, but when it was a special case, warranting extra care and attention--the messy ones--it came directly from Enma himself.

"The Count notified me of the missing souls."

"But the actual invoice? At the time I thought it a little too fast for the Count to have noticed inconsistencies in the Kiseki and the souls coming in. We got the case what, four hours after the women died? Then I had about an hour to look into the area and get specifics for the case before we were sending them out." Watari dropped his pen with a clatter. "Smells fishy to me."

"The invoice was signed with Enma-daioh's seal, but that doesn't mean it is some sort of ruse."

"Did you just accuse me of being a conspiracy theorist?" Watari laughed. "I'm only saying that he must have already known that the case wasn't what it seemed or he wouldn't have sent it so quickly, as if it were an urgent matter."

"A demon that is powerful enough to place an indicia will be a challenge even to someone as strong as Tsuzuki-san. It shouldn't have been handed down as a normal case but instead assigned to at least two teams to handle together," Tatsumi commented, his voice laced with worry.

"Tsuzuki is the strongest shinigami in the division, and with the kid they don't make a bad pair. I think they can handle it. Enma was probably thinking the same thing."

"This will be dealing with realm affairs. Everything they do will be under scrutiny once the case is up for review."

Watari shrugged. "Maybe Tsuzuki will only destroy a few buildings this time? I'm only worried over the fact that Enma will most likely order them to bring the demon in alive so that it can be tried. It will be a real political issue with Makai."

Tatsumi's eyes darkened and then he spoke frankly. "The last time Tsuzuki encountered a high ranking demon, he was possessed and nearly lost. The Ministry was destroyed, Kurosaki-kun was severely injured, and one of our charges died--"

"And Tsuzuki was unofficially made brigadier to Ashitarote's army," Watari finished for him. "Tsuzuki is strong, even stronger with Bon at his side, so I think that if anyone can handle the case it's them."

"Well, I'm not so sure," Tatsumi retorted. "Kurosaki-kun is in no shape to work such a difficult case. Regardless if it falls in their area, I would have handed it to a different pair if it weren't a direct assignment from Enma-daioh himself."

Watari's smirk was a little sinister when he said, "I think this case might be just the push Bon needs."

"If you mean a push into insanity--"

"Ye of little faith! I've been expecting this for a while actually, and as long as Bon figures out how to control his powers, then it will work in his favor."

"Easily said," Tatsumi countered, "But power like his isn't tamed so effortlessly."

"You could help him you know. You were lucky to have a teacher, someone who could train you to use your powers. Bon can only learn so much from books."

"Empathy isn't my expertise. I doubt I would be of much help to him." Tatsumi sighed, eyes troubled. "He needs to overcome this on his own. I just hope that this case doesn't become a strain that pushes him too far too soon."

"Just as Bon keeps Tsuzuki together, Tsuzuki will be there to help Bon."

Tatsumi locked eyes with him and they silently shared the same prayer that the case would end without causing too much damage to their friends.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

AN: I noticed a lot of new readers lately, so I just wanted to say thanks for taking the time to read my story, and I appreciate all the great reviews I've been getting (from new and old readers!)

Also, I need to give props to my beta reader for motivating me so much. She has been a big help in tough times!

In fresh clothes, Hisoka unapologetically left Tsuzuki at the library entrance as he went inside to find the Gushoshin. They'd met up back at the ministry building after showering and getting dressed at their respective apartments, but Tsuzuki was still banned from the library premises so Hisoka had to go in alone. Hisoka was sort of grateful. Since the meeting, Tsuzuki's emotions were darker than usual, a sharp anxiety that stabbed at Hisoka's temperamental empathy.

Sighing heavily, Hisoka walked down the long aisles of books towards the back rooms were the Gushoshin twins would most likely be. It felt like his emotions were on a rollercoaster. Everything was happening in rapid succession lately, dragging him from angry to sad, to angry, to sad, and then to _really_ angry. It was tiring.

The only blessing was that he'd obtained some sleep now, and that took the edge off things. At least he could think clearly now, that is, when Tsuzuki's emotions weren't pummeling him.

Hisoka remembered how warm his partner's emotions had been while in Watari's office. The sedative had been slow to wear off, dimming Tsuzuki's emotions to a reassuring hum. Then, Tsuzuki had gone to the crime scene, and they'd turned into a chaotic deluge.

Hisoka stopped at the door to the room the Gushoshin used as an office. Since most of the files where computerized now, it would be an easy task for them to compare the list of missing persons in Fukuoka City to their files and make a list of those that had psychic abilities.

After knocking, he heard a high-pitched voice call him in. Gushoshin Younger was the only one in the room, sitting on a tall wooden stool, and typing on his laptop. "Good morning Kurosaki-kun! Did you need something? My brother is busy, but I can help you!"

"Uh, thanks." Hisoka thought it was too early in the morning to sound that enthusiastic. Then again, Hisoka was one of the few people that regularly visited the library, so the Gushoshin were rather fond of him. "I have a list of missing persons for our case. I need to know which of them have psychic abilities, and since I can't access personal files--"

"No problem!" Gushoshin Younger chirped.

"There should be an electronic version of the list on the server," Hisoka added.

"Oh, good! This shouldn't take long at all. I can just run it through the search program. Come back in about an hour and it should be all done!" Hisoka nodded and then left the Gushoshin to his work.

When Hisoka exited the library, Tsuzuki was still waiting where he had left him, and was as impatient as ever to fill his stomach. He was being more foolish and whiny than usual, the waves of superficial emotion almost enough to mask his more troubled inner emotions.

Hisoka thought it was unfair that he had been so open with Tsuzuki only to have him still try and conceal his true feelings. He'd thought they were past artificial guises by now. Yet…the familiarity of Tsuzuki's silly behavior was helping him ignore his own worry over the case.

"You said we could get food but you lied!" Tsuzuki complained. "You brought me here and then you wouldn't even let me inside!"

"You aren't allowed in the library. The reconstruction only recently finished and Tatsumi-san would have a coronary if you destroyed it again."

"So mean…"

"And I didn't make you wait long. This way we can eat while they compile a list for us." Hisoka was certain his reasoning was sound, but Tsuzuki continued to pout.

"I could have fainted out here from hunger…"

"Tsuzuki, I don't want to hear it. Pick a place and we'll eat."

"Well--"

"And somewhere with _real_ food. I don't want to go to a dessert shop for breakfast, got it?"

Tsuzuki's eyes turned big and round. "But 'Soka, that isn't fair. You made me wait--"

"For what, five minutes?"

"And you said I could pick!"

"Somewhere with food. That is edible."

Tsuzuki cocked his head and smiled dotingly. "Have it your way. Jeez, so grumpy…" More fondness than exasperation coated Tsuzuki's words, and Hisoka had a hard time maintaining his scowl.

It didn't take long for them to pick a place and teleport to Chijou. They ended up at a little restaurant that was nestled among a string of small boutiques. Tsuzuki had taken him here before, claiming that they made the best omelets around. Hisoka was surprisingly hungry now, near ravenous, and just the memory of the fluffy omelet he'd ordered last time was causing him to salivate.

Tsuzuki raised his eyebrows when Hisoka made a large order. However, it still didn't rival Tsuzuki's, which consisted of a third of the menu.

"Hungry?" Tsuzuki asked, entirely too amused.

Hisoka huffed. "I didn't get to eat anything yesterday."

"Well, I bet you wish you could apologize to Mister Scone now, don't you?"

"I swear if you start that again--"

"Sorry." Tsuzuki raised his hands in surrender. "I'm just happy to see you eating something. I've been worried about you."

Their eyes met for a second before Hisoka averted his to the table top. A snappy comeback was at the tip of his tongue but it failed to come out. And now he was _really_ blushing.

It wasn't like he could just forget what happened that morning--not that he wanted too--but it did make him feel self-conscious. It was fine talking like before, as if they were _only_ partners, but when Tsuzuki said comments like that, so honest and accompanied with a medley of warm emotions, Hisoka suddenly lost traction. He was supposed to be trying wasn't he? But if that meant that he had to say something sappy back--no, he was probably over thinking everything.

Still, Tsuzuki _knew_ now and that meant that no amount of denial could hide the fact that Hisoka enjoyed--just a _little_--those gentle comments.

"I eat just fine. You can blame yesterday on Watari." Deleting the program didn't make them even. Hisoka didn't want to forgive Watari so easily, and since Watari's emotions were so difficult to differentiate and understand, Hisoka couldn't tell if he felt any remorse at all. It was like trying to pick out the notes from a single violin in a large chamber orchestra.

Watari could have very well been lying and had already started working on the damn thing again.

"You know he always gets carried away with his experiments. I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it," Tsuzuki said.

"Defending him now?" Hisoka gave a satisfied smirk to see Tsuzuki momentarily squirm.

"No! I mean…it _is_ Watari we are talking about. That's all. He doesn't intend half the damage he causes."

"I know that, but I didn't appreciate him preventing me from working this morning. I didn't have to stay behind! What if there was something residual there my empathy could have picked up?"

Tsuzuki frowned. "But you said you wouldn't use your empathy for a while."

Hisoka brushed off Tsuzuki's worry. "Regardless, it's our case. If Watari wanted to butt in then he didn't have to make up some lame excuse. He didn't so much as take my blood pressure and suddenly _now_ it is ok for me to resume work?"

Tsuzuki shrugged. "Don't ask me what he is thinking."

Hisoka groused a little longer, but settled down when the food arrived. He was too hungry to talk after that, and inhaled everything that was on his plate. Tsuzuki's bemused gaze was more than distracting, but thankfully, he deigned not to make any more annoying comments.

Hisoka, more cognizant after sleep, was enjoying it immensely. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be well rested and actually have an appetite. His dreams hadn't been pleasant…but it was an equal trade for not feeling so miserable now.

Even with his mountain of food, Tsuzuki still managed to empty his plates before Hisoka was finished, and entertained himself by making towers with packets of creamer. Hisoka wanted to reprimand him for acting so childishly, but he knew better than anyone the strange methods Tsuzuki used to distract himself from grim thoughts.

"Put those away, would you?" Hisoka said finally, as he finished his omelet.

Tsuzuki smirked at him and poked the base of the stack so that they toppled over the table. "Sure thing." Leisurely, he recollected the creamers and placed them back in their bowl.

Hisoka pushed his plate away and sighed. He wondered if he should be the one to bring it up now, or if he should follow Tsuzuki's lead not to talk about it. Tsuzuki raised a questioning eyebrow at his brooding expression. Steeling himself, Hisoka asked, "Why make it look like Muraki?"

Tsuzuki stiffened, shock and a flash of panic showing in his eyes. He didn't say anything. Hisoka could tell he didn't want discuss anything to do with Muraki.

"Are they just trying to mess with us?" Hisoka continued. "Whoever is doing this had to know we were on the case by now…that we would know indicias are being used. So why…"

"I don't know," Tsuzuki murmured. "Demons know how to use people's fears against them."

Hisoka paused, attempting to decipher the bitter emotions radiating from Tsuzuki. It was hard to know where those feelings were coming from. He knew that Tsuzuki hated Muraki nearly as much as he did…but then he remembered Sagatanas and how Tsuzuki's emotions had been similarly distant and frozen for weeks after his possession.

"They're just trying to intimidate us…" Hisoka crossed his arms tightly, not wanting to admit that he'd felt a whole lot more than unsettled at the thought of Muraki being involved. "What will we do if we encounter the demon?"

Tsuzuki shrugged. "We'll fight it of course. Although, I hope we don't just run into it…." Tsuzuki finally met his eyes again. "If we have to capture it then shadow magic would be the strongest…or a spirit restraint spell could be used."

Hisoka remembered how difficult it had been to cast spirit restraint on Tsuzuki when he'd tried to separate Sagatanasu from Tsuzuki's body. Even with Konoe's training it'd been hard to maintain his concentration and the backlash had injured him severely.

They'd get Tatsumi then.

"It still doesn't make sense. Why cut open the body like that?" Hisoka couldn't imagine what sort clue the killer was trying to leave with that.

Tsuzuki grimaced. "There are some rituals that involve reproductive organs…like fertility spells. Or sometimes demons like to eat only certain parts…"

Hisoka shook his head to get the invading image out of his head. This wasn't the best conversation to have in a restaurant. "Watari said it was cut out with a scalpel… that seems too sophisticated for a demon."

Tsuzuki paused and then said, "Not all demons are primitive. The higher level ones sometimes resemble humans…" Tsuzuki swallowed and Hisoka could feel his shields tightening. "A demon that is strong enough to place an indicia would probably have a human form as a disguise."

If the demon was of high enough class to have a humanoid form, then it would be much stronger than something they'd be able to take down alone. The highest form Sagatanasu had been able to assume was a dog, and he had nearly killed both of them.

So perhaps not only Tatsumi, but they'd get Watari's aid as well. And if Wakaba or Terazuma were available…

Hisoka knew it wasn't a good idea to panic, but his paranoia over the case was only increasing.

"It doesn't matter how powerful it is. We have to stop them before anyone else dies," Tsuzuki said with conviction.

Hisoka nodded. Whatever those women were put through it had been horrible enough that Honda-san had preferred death. They couldn't allow this continue.

"Come on," Hisoka said quietly. As he placed the tab on the table, Tsuzuki lightly brushed the back of Hisoka's fingers with his. Hisoka started but didn't pull his hand back. Their eyes met again and Tsuzuki smiled.

qpqpqpqp

Tsuzuki looked at the paper in Hisoka's hand. "Five, not counting the three women who've died."

"In Fukuoka City anyway. Honda-san was from Tagawa remember? It would take too long if we wanted to cross reference the missing person reports for the whole prefecture," Hisoka said.

The paper the Gushoshin had given them was a simple list with the missing persons' names, ages, sex, and the date they'd gone missing along with a home address. Since most were still alive, and they couldn't be sure they were part of the case yet, the full files were still restricted.

"Hmm…" Tsuzuki plucked the paper away from Hisoka and raised his eyebrows.

"What?"

"They are all women," Tsuzuki held out the paper to prove the point. "All of them are in the early twenties to early thirties range too."

"So they are more specific with their targets. They don't only want psychics."

"No, apparently not." Tsuzuki frowned. "But how would the killer be able to find this many women with abilities? That isn't something you could know just from looking at someone…"

"They must have been picked out somehow."

Tsuzuki recognized the suspicion in Hisoka's gaze and it amplified his own. "You think there is something else connecting the women?"

"It isn't as if the demon has access to their files. So unless it has a method of sensing the women's abilities, there has to be something else the victims had in common."

Tsuzuki nodded slowly. "We must have missed it."

"Well, we can start by visiting the house of the woman found earlier. Maybe we can figure out a link there."

"This is her," Tsuzuki said as he pointed to the second name on the page. "Atsuya Masako. We can try talking to her family."

qpqpqpqpqp

Masako's house was a small one, built on a residential street amongst many other small houses. Tsuzuki and Hisoka paused at the gate to check the family's name plate before proceeding up the walk. Tsuzuki knocked enthusiastically and after a few moments, a middle aged woman answered.

"Hello? How may I help you?" The woman's eyes crinkled along the edges as she smiled at them from the doorway. She was wearing a stained apron and in one of her hands was potato peeler. Tsuzuki felt guilt build in his stomach. This was Masako's mother. They hadn't caught the killer yet, and now she'd lost a daughter.

"Sorry to trouble you, but we are here to ask some questions about your daughter," Tsuzuki stated kindly.

"Kano?" she asked, puzzled.

"No M'am," Tsuzuki said.

"We are here about Masako-san," Hisoka corrected.

The woman tilted her head, and her smile widened. "Are you friends of Masako's? How rude of me. Come in. Come in." She turned and led them into the house where she paused long enough for them to remove their shoes, before saying, "Masako isn't in right now, but it would be a shame if you came all this way and didn't even have tea."

Tsuzuki shared a glance with Hisoka who looked equally confused. "How long has Masako-san been _out_?" Hisoka questioned delicately.

Masako's mother ran a dirty hand over her hair, causing graying strands to fall loose of the messy bun it was tied in. "Oh, I don't know. She is always busy. Very ambitious. Was accepted into Fukuoka University last year. Makes me and her father very proud." They followed her into the kitchen as she nodded to herself.

The kitchen was a mess of bowls big and small, all filled with piles of potato skins. The sink was overflowing with peeled potatoes, a couple having fallen onto the floor where a nearly empty sack sat crumpled, only a few unpeeled potatoes remaining inside.

"Excuse the mess," she said, as she opened a cupboard for cups.

Tsuzuki felt a cold shiver run through him but he forced a soft smile. Stepping forward, he took the cups from her hands and said, "Why don't you allow me? You look like you could use some time off your feet. Why don't you sit down?"

"O-oh. What a kind young man. Very sweet. Just the sort of friend Masako would have…"

Tsuzuki guided her to a dining room chair. Hisoka was still hovering uncertainly by the entrance to the kitchen, and Tsuzuki wondered what sort emotions his partner might be picking up. "There you go," Tsuzuki said to the unbalanced woman. "Now is there anyone that can help you? What about your husband?"

"No. No…he is in Yokohama. His work transferred him a few years ago. Just me and my daughters. We do just fine. Yes…Masako should be back very soon."

Tsuzuki looked over his shoulder and Hisoka shifted uneasily. "Daughters?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, there's Kano. She should be in her room now. Silly girl, always saying such funny things…"

"And where is her room?" Hisoka asked.

"Just at the end of the hall." The woman stood up suddenly. "My, I'm so behind on dinner. What will I do if it isn't finished before Masako gets home?" Tsuzuki watched helplessly as she returned to the sink and retrieved another potato to peel.

"Tsuzuki, come on." Hisoka was beckoning him out of the kitchen.

"Wait. We can't just leave her like this," Tsuzuki whispered.

"We have to find out what is going on and we aren't going to get anything from her. Maybe the other daughter will be more…well, sane."

"Who would rationally leave their own mother like this?"

Hisoka sighed. "We'll get to find out. We can try asking the daughter some questions. At least then we'll have a shot at getting some information."

Tsuzuki watched poor Masako's mother for a second longer before walking down the hall with Hisoka. It became clear which room belonged to Kano, because a strip of blue light filtered out from under the door.

Tsuzuki tapped softly on the door and then called out when there was no answer. "Atsuya Kano?"

It was silent on the other side, and Tsuzuki was tempted to knock again, but then a small click sounded. He glanced down at the doorknob, and saw it turning slowly. The door opened a sliver and an eye peeked out at them from the darkness of the room.

"Who is it?" she asked timidly.

The eye swiveled and then locked onto Hisoka, who flinched. The door creaked open further, revealing a young woman who look like the carbon copy of Masako. She was wearing a thin nightgown and her features were gaunt. She took a sudden step towards Hisoka, her eyes locked onto him unblinkingly.

"You…" she whispered shakily.

Seeing Hisoka tense further, Tsuzuki spoke up, to draw her attention. "We just wanted to ask some questions about your sister Masako."

The girl whipped around as if burned and finally looked at him. Her eyes widened, the pupils dilating and making her gaze appear pitch black.

"You!" she shrieked, reeling back into the doorway. "You--stay away!"

Tsuzuki attempted to pacify her. "Wait! I didn't mean to startle--"

"Your eyes!" she screamed. "Monster! Demon! Stay away!"

Tsuzuki's chest tightened, the air leaving his lungs in a sharp gasp. Demon. She saw his eyes and… It had been so long since someone had reacted that way…

"Hold on!" Hisoka slammed a hand in the path of the closing door. "I don't know what you _think_ he is, but you're wrong!" Hisoka's face was red, displaying more anger than he had with Watari that morning. Tsuzuki watched a little shocked as he forcefully pushed the door back open.

Kano took a step back, her hands raised frightfully. "He's one of them isn't he? He's come to take me away like they did my sister! Why would you bring one of them here?!"

"He isn't one of _them_! His name is Tsuzuki, and he probably cares more about your family than you do, you crazy bit--"

"Hisoka!" Tsuzuki placed a hand on his shoulder and put on a strained smile. He tried focus on Kano who was shaking. "We don't mean you any harm. We just want to ask you a few questions about your sister."

Kano stared at him silently for a tense minute before turning to Hisoka once again. "Y-you're sure he's safe?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

Tsuzuki felt more pain amass in his chest, but it lessened somewhat when Hisoka snapped with fervor, "Of course he is!"

Kano stepped to the side and motioned them in, her eyes warily glancing at Tsuzuki as he passed her. Once they were inside she hastily shut and locked the door. They were thrown into darkness, the source of the softly glowing light turning out to be a computer monitor on a corner desk. Kano walked over to the desk and sat down. The shadow created over her face made her appear even more sickly.

"You can't be too careful," she said, focusing once again on Hisoka. She peered at him with keen interest, ignoring Tsuzuki just as before. "Crawling all over the city now…I tried to warn everyone but it was too late. No one listens."

"What are you talking about?" Hisoka asked, still some bite to his tone.

"You don't know?" Kano fidgeted restlessly. "You're one of us, aren't you? A gifted?"

"Gifted…" Tsuzuki repeated.

"I knew right away," Kano said, her voice brightening. "That's my gift. I can tell the difference between all kinds."

Hisoka's eyes narrowed. "All kinds, you mean--"

"That was why I got so scared! I didn't know you would bring one of them here, but your gift is so strong, I could feel you as soon as you came up the street, so you would know if he was bad or not." Kano turned to her computer and jiggled the mouse to prevent it from going to screensaver.

Tsuzuki could feel sweat prickling over his palms, as the words she spoke settled in painfully, like splinters being pushed under his skin. She could tell the difference. She knew what he was. That he--

"Tsuzuki," Hisoka said quietly. Their eyes met and Tsuzuki knew without hearing it.

_Am I human?_

_Yes, you are human._

Tsuzuki looked away.

Kano went on obliviously, "But you shouldn't stay in the city! They are everywhere. I don't leave the house if I can help it."

"Do you know _who_ they are?" Hisoka asked her. "If you can sense them, then do you know where they are?"

"No! No…they aren't the same as the gifted. I can't feel them as strongly. I just know they're here--the ones behind everything. The signs came a long time ago. We knew they were coming. One of us sent out a warning a few months ago. And now they are in the city, picking us off. It's only a matter of time before they come after me."

"We?" Hisoka interjected.

"Yes, people like us!" Kano pointed at the computer screen. She scrolled to the top, where "The Gifted" was stated in bold font. "It's a paranormal messaging board. They aren't all real, but I made a private room. Only those I know are gifted are allowed. They are all from Fukuoka."

"How many members do you have?" Tsuzuki asked urgently, his brain piecing things together.

"Close to thirty, but some are just lurkers." Kano's voice grew more fearful. "But more than half the members have stopped logging on! I know what happened to them. I know th-the demons got them. " Kano eyes flickered away from the screen and danced between them crazed. "Demons! There are…d-demons in the city! _Killing_ us!" She let out a panicked laugh. "I can feel them dying! Even my own sister…"

Tsuzuki was afraid to speak, not wanting to incite the girl into another fit of hysterics, but couldn't help but ask, "So you know when they die? These other 'gifted.'"

"Like lights going out," she whispered. "I tried to tell everyone that it was real, that they were in danger…but they wouldn't listen. No one would…"

Kano slammed her hand onto the desk, her fingers trembling. "No one cares! I tried to warn--I called, even letters…but no one would listen. No one would believe me. Friends, family, its all a lie! No one would listen! Who cares if a freak's missing, right? Who cares if we die?! I told my mother--"

Kano broke off into sobbing laughs, her hair falling into her face. "I told my mother that Masako wasn't coming back. That she was dead. And she didn't even believe me, her own daughter. Kept saying how horrible I was, that I was just jealous--couldn't even take the truth!"

"Kano…" Tsuzuki touched her gently on the shoulder to comfort her, but she slapped it away and screamed.

"Don't touch me! I'm never leaving this room! I'm never going to let you get me! Just stay away! All of you stay away!"

Tsuzuki stepped back and sent a worried glace to Hisoka, only to find that his partner was clear against the opposite wall, a grimace on his face. Kano's emotions were probably very painful, especially in such a panicked state.

He turned to Kano again and attempted to calm her down. "We aren't taking you anywhere. You can stay here as long as you want."

"That's right! Can't get me here… Safe here…" She turned to her computer and jiggled her mouse surreptitiously.

Tsuzuki swallowed and asked cautiously, "We are just trying to find the other…gifted. We want to help them."

"No!" She glared at Tsuzuki hatefully. "I won't tell you who they are! I won't be tricked again!"

"We aren't trying to trick you. We just want to help. We can protect them--"

"You can't! It's too late! You're just like the other man. Making promises you can't keep…He said he'd help, that he could-- That it didn't matter if we were freaks. But it was a lie. They're all going to die aren't they? And it's my fault."

Tsuzuki frowned. "Kano, what happened? Who tricked you?"

"I don't know! I really…" Kano trailed off, shame coating her words. "He said he could fix us. I wasn't sure…but I let him into the private room anyway. Since the warning that they would be coming, we were all scared…and he said he could protect us, that he knew what to do. But I…"

"Kano?"

"I didn't trust him, but I didn't do anything to stop it either. When they didn't log in anymore, I knew, but I didn't do anything at all, not until my sister went missing." Kano's voice cracked. "It's all my fault! Everyone on the forum was close, like a family. We shared personal information all the time. And I let him in! They're all going to die because of me!"

Tsuzuki forced his voice to remain calm. "They don't have to. If you can just help us find them, then we can protect all of you. They are still alive. We can--"

"No! I won't tell you!"

"Please--" he begged.

"No! Nonononono!!"

Tsuzuki took a step forward without realizing it, another plea on the tip of his tongue, and Kano shrank back in her chair, hands coming up defensively.

"GET OUT! I won't tell you anything!"

"But if you can sense them--"

Suddenly Kano's door opened, and Mrs. Atsuya stood there, her peeler clenched tightly in her hand. "Kano? What's all this yelling? How will Masako study with it so loud?"

Kano focus shifted to her mother, and she screeched, "Masako's dead Mother! DEAD!"

"Th-that's enough! I don't want to hear such disrespectful talk!"

Kano began sobbing wildly, her voice only escalating in volume. "Why don't you get it?! Why does no one believe me?!"

"What a horrible girl! I'm so ashamed!" Mrs. Atsuya grabbed Tsuzuki's arm and began steering him from the room, just as Kano started throwing things. Hisoka was quick to follow them. "I'm sorry, gentlemen, for my daughter's behavior. Please forgive her. She has never been…right. Not like her sister."

She had escorted them all the way to the entrance where she anxiously handed them their shoes.

"We still have some questions we need to--"

"Come back another day," she interrupted, opening the door for them. "Yes, come back when Masako is less busy," she said, pushing them insistently through the door. Tsuzuki found the door shut in their faces, his shoes only half on his feet.

qpqpqpqpqp

As they walked back through the city, Tsuzuki found it difficult to pay attention to street names. Hisoka was walking to his right, slightly ahead, shoulders tensed. They hadn't said much since leaving the Atsuya residence.

Tsuzuki wasn't sure how helpful the visit had been. They still didn't know who the killer was, or where the other women were being held. However, they did know how the killer had picked his victims, the common factor, and that was worth something. This "man" was who they were after.

If only Kano had decided to cooperate, they'd be a lot further. They'd have to go back later, when she'd calmed down. After all, if she had an ability, she wasn't safe on her own. But it wasn't like they could take her against her will, and they'd have to get permission to bring another mortal into Meifu, even if it was for the sake of protection.

Not that she wanted to be protected. She was more scared of him than whatever evil was out there. He had…demon eyes. She'd taken one look and known… And if she was telling the truth, and she could really sense the difference…

Tsuzuki looked up at the sky, noticing that there were some rain clouds on the horizon.

Distracted, he didn't realize Hisoka had stopped, and nearly ran into him.

Hisoka whirled around. "You aren't going to listen to her are you? She is crazy. She had no idea what she was saying."

Tsuzuki blinked, unsure of Hisoka's sudden outburst. Hisoka was probably right, Kano wasn't all there, but he wasn't sure he'd go as far as calling her crazy. After what had happened to her, Tsuzuki didn't blame her for being scared. And nothing she'd said... really sounded like a lie to him.

"Yeah," he said weakly.

Hisoka crossed his arms and started walking again. "I'm _telling_ you, she's wrong. She doesn't even know you."

_Not like I do._

Tsuzuki smiled slightly. Hisoka always tried so hard to assure him, but that only made Tsuzuki doubt it more. It would take one look for anyone to know he wasn't human.

His eyes…

"Tsuzuki," Hisoka said a bit more harshly. Tsuzuki's eyes landed on Hisoka's back, on the hands clasped at his waist. He didn't want to upset Hisoka, but he couldn't help it if he just didn't believe.

"I'm fine," he said, trying to bury any emotions that could give him away.

"I'm an empath remember?"

Tsuzuki chuckled tautly. "Sorry. My emotions are probably bothering you."

"That isn't what I meant! Damn it!" Hisoka's shoes were scuffing loudly on the pavement as his pace increased. "I'm just saying, you don't have to pretend around me," he muttered in a low voice. "I shouldn't have to use my empathy."

This time Tsuzuki stopped, his feet stumbling over each other stupidly. He gaped for a moment at his partner's back, before he realized he would be left behind, and jogged until he fell into step beside Hisoka again. He grinned and ruffled Hisoka's hair for as long as he could before his hand was swatted away.

"Thanks," Tsuzuki said, the heavy feeling he'd had since leaving the Atsuya residence lifting somewhat.

Seeing an ice cream vendor up ahead Tsuzuki thought it would be a good way to ease the tense mood. He didn't want Hisoka worrying over him; he didn't want to cause him any trouble. Nudging Hisoka with his elbow, Tsuzuki pointed at the small cart.

"Food? Is that your answer to everything?" Hisoka's voice was sarcastic rather than stern, and Tsuzuki could see that his shoulders were starting to relax. Good.

"I just thought it would be nice to sit down for a bit."

"Yeah right. That's just your excuse to get ice cream."

"Ah, you see right through me." Tsuzuki walked up the vendor and ordered a scoop for both of them, chocolate for himself, and vanilla for Hisoka.

Just ahead were some tables and chairs in front of the store fronts of various specialty shops. They sat down together and Tsuzuki passed Hisoka his ice cream cone, getting a spark of enjoyment from the way their hands brushed. Hisoka didn't yell at him for it either. Somehow the fact that he was allowed to touch Hisoka of all people, even if it was only a small contact, was…well, it was incredible.

"This whole case is a mess," Hisoka sighed, tasting his ice cream reluctantly.

Tsuzuki took a bite off the top of his scoop. "We know how he found the women now…"

"We don't know who _he_ is. Or _where_ he is for that matter."

"Mm." Tsuzuki rested his chin on his palm and tilted his head tiredly. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night, and the morning hadn't gone very well. "We have to figure it out somehow," he said in a deflated manner. "Those other women are still alive."

He didn't want to think about what would happen if they didn't solve the case in time. What if more women died while they struggled to come up with a solid lead? He swallowed back his rising guilt with another bite of ice cream.

"We need more information. If Kano doesn't know who is behind this, then maybe someone else will. We still have the names of the other missing persons," Hisoka said.

"Yeah…" Tsuzuki started in on his cone with a loud crunch.

Hisoka drummed his free hand on the table top, before asking thoughtfully, "Do you think there might be some way we could trace the identity of this man that joined the forum?"

Tsuzuki perked up. That could work. Not that he would know how to do it…He only ever used the internet to check his e-mail or read restaurant reviews. "Maybe. We'd have to ask Watari. Hacking, that's Watari's sort of thing, isn't it?"

"Ugg." Hisoka scowled, looking aggravated. "Who wants to ask that guy for help?"

Tsuzuki chuckled, feeling a little less like bricks were sitting in his stomach. It was times like this that reminded him how lucky he was to have Hisoka as his partner. Tsuzuki finished his ice cream and licked his fingers clean. When Tsuzuki saw Hisoka glowering at him, he asked innocently, "What?"

"Use a napkin. Jeez."

Tsuzuki wiped his hands on his slacks instead and grinned impishly. He greatly enjoyed how Hisoka's left eye twitched in annoyance. "I'm not the only one who needs a napkin," Tsuzuki added. "Your cone is just going to melt if you don't eat it faster."

Hisoka glared the white trails beginning to drip down the cone and towards his hand. "I don't want it."

"But I bought it for you!" Tsuzuki said with false outrage. A grin spread over his face.

Hisoka held out his ice cream like a kid would push away an unwanted dinner plate, and shook his head. "You know I don't like sweets. You did it on purpose just so you'd get mine too."

Tsuzuki's grin widened, his cheeks aching slightly, and started laughing. Hisoka knew him too well. But the image of Hisoka holding an ice cream cone and frowning petulantly, was entirely too adorable. "You're so mean--" he managed to whine between chuckles.

Instead of the grumpy response he was expecting, Hisoka suddenly tensed, his expression flat lining. His eyes were locked on some point beyond Tsuzuki's shoulder, and the color was rapidly draining from his face. Tsuzuki's smile slipped away, his laughter ending abruptly.

Something was wrong.

The atmosphere had changed so quickly, like a sudden frost in the middle of summer. Tsuzuki turned cautiously, and went rigid. All his thoughts fled his body, and for a long minute he forgot to breathe.

"Tsuzuki-san, what a pleasant surprise."

But he really couldn't be _here_, because the last time Tsuzuki had seen him, there had been blood on his coat, blood on his lips, blood on their hands. Last time--and wasn't it broad day light? There were people all around talking and laughing, much as he had been doing only moments ago. Then here he was, smiling pleasantly as if he had every right to be there-- as if they were old friends who had the fortune of running into each other by some whimsy of fate.

Tsuzuki was torn between cringing away and standing protectively, very much aware of Hisoka's presence behind him but too wary to spare a glance his way. His voice rose up inside him, fear and anger twisting into a shaky hiss.

"Muraki!"


	10. Chapter 10

The following is dedicated to my wonderful beta, because I think I was ready to just shoot the chapter at some point and she really helped me out.

**Chapter 10**

Hisoka was glued to his seat, unable to comprehend Muraki's sudden appearance. There weren't any bodies in sight, no screams of agony, just merry shoppers milling down the sidewalks around them. All they would see was a man with a gracious smile, dressed in a white trench coat that was a little odd in such warm weather.

But Hisoka could see how Muraki's stare traveled over Tsuzuki in an indulgent sweep, and it caused Hisoka's anger to rise and disgust to crawl in his throat. Slowly, his brain cranked back to life.

And then his body was springing up, a delayed reflex, and he took a step around the small table so that he stood closer to Tsuzuki. Hisoka could feel his partner's reeling emotions, remembered how strong his fear had been after only seeing a hallucination of Muraki at the Count's party months back, and knew that the passing of time hadn't fixed everything.

Hisoka would never forget what happened in Kyoto, how Muraki had manipulated and destroyed Tsuzuki. He'd been after Muraki for revenge these past years since his death, but somehow the hatred over what Muraki had done to Tsuzuki, burned brighter than any of it.

"What are you doing here?!" Hisoka spat, his voice stronger than he expected it to be, stronger than he felt, and Muraki's gaze shifted to him. Immediately Hisoka had to force down a shudder, flashes of last night's dream returning viciously as if on cue.

Beneath his bangs, Muraki's eyes drilled into his, and Hisoka could feel the answering call of his curse marks. They flared under his shirt, making his skin prickle painfully. He tried not to cringe, not to give away that he was affected at all, but Muraki's smirk only widened. He always knew.

Hisoka's knees felt weak, but he refused to be pathetic now. Somehow his anger drowned out some of the panic.

"Boy," Muraki said, dismissively. "Is that any sort of greeting? I merely wished to say hello."

Muraki was almost too bright to look at, the sunlight blending with his silver hair and highlighting the white folds of his coat. Hisoka remembered bitterly how he'd first mistaken Muraki for an angel that night long ago, and his stomach twisted painfully at how deceiving an image Muraki put on.

It was all a trap, always a trap. Under his good natured act, Muraki was a calculating bastard, and Hisoka wouldn't fall for it again. There were never coincidences when it came to him, so if he was here now, Hisoka knew it was for a reason.

He couldn't help but eye the doctor suspiciously, his gaze flickering over his immaculate clothes, and what little skin was revealed. Hisoka was surprised that there wasn't a single mark in sight from the Kyoto fire, flames that were hot enough to even scorch someone's soul, let alone their flesh. He wondered if there were hidden scars. Hisoka wanted nothing more than to imagine Muraki disfigured, marked like he was, but it looked as if Muraki had managed to pull another spectacular feat.

Human…how could this monster be human? Hisoka felt cold trails of melted ice cream begin to drip over his fingers, shocking him from his introspection. He dropped the cone to the ground and clenched his fists.

Muraki's false smile faltered as he said coolly, "Together as always." His eyes narrowed. "How domestic."

"Why are you here Muraki?!" Hisoka ground out between his teeth. "If you have anything to do with the missing women--"

"I have no idea what you are talking about. I was just tending to some business at the university."

"You bastard! I know you know something!" Hisoka shouted. Tsuzuki grabbed one of his shaking fists, jolting Hisoka and making him aware of himself again, of where they were. People were staring, a few whispering to each other while they watched.

Muraki's gaze followed Tsuzuki's movement, and his eyes narrowed knowingly. Hisoka jerked his hand free and swallowed.

Muraki turned his focus back to Tsuzuki and lowered his voice intimately. "Tsuzuki-san, have you and the boy come to some sort of…_understanding_?"

Tsuzuki flinched. Hisoka could feel Tsuzuki's emotions squirming restlessly, fear and foggy memories encasing anything rational, like a layer of soot, making Tsuzuki's feelings too murky to understand. Hisoka couldn't let Muraki get to him, not again!

"Shut up!" he shouted. More people were staring. Fuck them! Nothing would happen, he'd make sure of it. They were in plain sight he reminded himself, and that meant that even Muraki wouldn't be stupid enough to try and pull something.

"I have no interest in you, boy," Muraki said, with that charming smile once again in place. "But Tsuzuki-san, I'd be delighted if you would accompany me for lunch. I'll be free in an hour, if you'd be so kind."

Hisoka stiffened, edging ever so slightly closer to Tsuzuki, his mind scrambling desperately.

"He isn't going anywhere with you!"

"I believe that is for him to decide," Muraki said snidely.

"Hisoka," Tsuzuki whispered, reminding him once again of their location. Hisoka trembled, trying to compose himself--knowing that he was letting Muraki see every one of his weaknesses.

He was losing.

Muraki turned as if to walk away. "There is something I'd like to discuss with you, Tsuzuki-san. We can talk somewhere more discreet; I may have something of interest for you as well."

When Tsuzuki spoke this time, his voice was more firm, his emotions smothered beneath a thin mask of determination, or rather, a sense of duty. "So you do know something?"

The light glinted over the surface of Muraki's glasses like it would on a scalpel's edge, obscuring his gaze. "I'll see you in an hour. There is a quaint park you should be familiar with, Tsuzuki-san." Then, casually like nothing had happened at all, Muraki walked away, quickly disappearing amongst the midday shoppers.

qpqpqpqp

Hisoka slammed the hotel door shut, the thin walls trembling in aftershock. The room had turned into a heater box in their absence with the window closed, and it only made Hisoka's skin feel itchy, as if the curse marks were trying to climb free of this skin.

Tsuzuki slumped onto the foot of his bed and began loosening the collar of his shirt. He hadn't said a word since Muraki left. They'd walked back to the hotel rather than teleporting, much to Hisoka's annoyance. Tsuzuki probably wanted to postpone the inevitable. Nothing could really be said until they were out of the public eye, and Tsuzuki knew that well. But they were in their own room now and Hisoka planned to yell as much as he damn well pleased.

"You aren't going!" he shouted. "I know you--I know how you think, and the answer is no!" Hisoka started pacing restlessly in the small space in front of the window.

Tsuzuki had his tie clenched in his hand. "Hisoka--"

"No! That is just what that bastard wants! He's messing with us!"

Tsuzuki's face was impassive, and Hisoka knew that he was already making up his mind, probably to heroically sacrifice himself for the sake of others, or some such bullshit.

"Damn it, Tsuzuki!"

"He knows something, Hisoka." Tsuzuki's eyes were shuttered, all his fear neatly stowed away as if Hisoka wouldn't know that it existed right under the surface.

Tsuzuki was walking into his worst nightmare, and they both knew it.

"I don't care what he knows! I'm not letting him get you alone again. Not like last time--" Hisoka cut himself off, his chest heaving.

Hisoka could remember the night Muraki took Tsuzuki vividly. Remembered watching as Muraki held Tsuzuki's limp body in his arms and smiled down at them, as if he'd won, before disappearing. Tsuzuki's emotions had cut him like a knife, digging into his chest and prying open old wounds. He'd never known such despair, such mind splintering hurt. It was like a black hole, all sense of Tsuzuki being sucked away into darkness.

He never wanted to feel that again.

And three days Tsuzuki had been with that man. Hisoka didn't want to think about it-- but when he'd finally found him, seen the flames, knew that Tsuzuki wanted to _die_--

"Hisoka, I promise I'll be fine."

"You can't promise that! Haven't you learned anything? Don't make promises unless you know you can keep them!" Hisoka was having trouble breathing. He couldn't believe that Tsuzuki was really considering Muraki's offer. "It's Muraki, Tsuzuki!"

"It won't be the same as last time." Tsuzuki stood up and looked at him square in the eyes. "I wouldn't…I have you now…"

Hisoka swallowed, his face reddening. "It's not enough. You're always doing this; putting yourself in harm's way for some noble, some _stupid_, cause. And I'm always the one left waiting. Wondering when you'll come back--if you'll come back. We are supposed to be partners!"

"But I will come back! This isn't a stupid cause, Hisoka! Those women are in danger, they could die. I can't let that happen!" Tsuzuki's guilt rose painfully, as it always did during difficult cases. Tsuzuki was hurting, unable to protect those he knew needed help, and there was nothing Hisoka could do to stop him from feeling that way.

"And you think Muraki will just give you all the answers?! You don't think this is just another one of his games?!"

"I have to do something!"

"You're playing right into his hands! Who knows what he wants with you!" Tsuzuki had foiled Muraki's plans in Kyoto, destroyed his lab, and almost managed to kill him. Tsuzuki never really explained what had happened there, what Muraki wanted, but Tsuzuki had mentioned once while they'd been recovering in the infirmary that Muraki's reason for wanting him had burned away with everything else.

But Hisoka didn't truly believe that. Tsuzuki didn't know Muraki like he did. Muraki had killed him purely for the sake of it, because he was something _pretty_, and the years of pain that he'd been put through was a form of entertainment. Muraki didn't _need_ a reason.

If Muraki was back now, who knew what he would do. Tsuzuki had almost destroyed him and his insidious plans, who knew what sort of revenge he'd want.

"I'll come back!" Tsuzuki took a couple of steps closer until he was standing directly in front of him. Up close Hisoka could see the determination building in his eyes, amethyst darkening.

"But not the same," Hisoka forced out through the emotion choking his throat. "You never come back the same."

"Hisoka…" Tsuzuki's hand hesitantly reached out and brushed his shoulder.

"You have no idea what it's like." Tsuzuki had no idea what it was like, how horrible it had been when Hisoka knew Tsuzuki didn't want to live anymore. That he would be left behind, alone again, just has he had been in life. Tsuzuki was his family, and he'd almost left him.

Tsuzuki's fingers curled around Hisoka's arm and he inched forward again. Hisoka could feel the curse burning under Tsuzuki's fingers, as if Muraki was mocking him. He had no control after all. He couldn't even keep Tsuzuki safe. He'd lose everything to that man.

"I'm sorry," Tsuzuki whispered. "But I have to do this."

"You idiot, you don't--"

Tsuzuki's arms were around him then, holding him. It was much to hot in the room for it to be comfortable, but Hisoka only half-heartedly tried to push him away. They were both sweaty, and Hisoka couldn't relax his rigid posture, emotions still boiling inside him. Tsuzuki wasn't going to listen. He would go to that man instead. This meant nothing in reality.

"I really am sorry. Please don't hate me for this," Tsuzuki whispered into his hair.

"Then don't go! If you're so sorry-- you can't just expect me to--"

His words tapered off when Tsuzuki's palm met his cheek, tilting his face back far enough so that their eyes could meet again. A remembrance of a completely different dream rushed through Hisoka's mind, and the flush that had previously been out of anger, darkened because of something else entirely.

"Ah," he sputtered, eyes widening.

Tsuzuki's eyes flickered once from his own, down to his lips, and then back again. Hisoka felt his heart begin to pound in his chest, anticipation rolling through him hotly. But then Tsuzuki pulled back, the embrace loosening so Hisoka was no longer held tightly to Tsuzuki's chest, and Hisoka thought for a moment that Tsuzuki wasn't going to do it.

Hisoka took a shuddering breath, a hint of disappointment registering before Tsuzuki leaned forward, his breath almost too hot over his lips, and--

It was warm and soft, and Tsuzuki's emotions tingled where they touched him. Hisoka could feel his partner's desperation, the plea to understand, all mixed into something much deeper. Tsuzuki felt so much, and it was only inches away. Hisoka could do nothing but accept it, to answer Tsuzuki's need for reassurance. The hand on his back was quivering, fingers pressed gently into the folds of his shirt, and it felt strangely sweet.

Hisoka gradually relaxed, pressed forward, and accepted the kiss. He shook, his hands gripping Tsuzuki's arms, as he felt relief and affection spill from Tsuzuki. Hisoka wanted to anchor him there, not let go, not think--

Tsuzuki pulled back with a gasp, shock in his gaze, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just done. Hisoka stared at him dazed for a full minute before realizing what had just happened.

"That--" he stuttered, mortified at how difficult it was to get his mouth to work properly. His lips were still hot, almost numb. "You're just trying to distract me!" he accused shakily. "You think you can…that you can just…you kissed me and you're still going to see Muraki!"

"'Soka," Tsuzuki murmured, still close enough that Hisoka could physically feel it. "I'll come back. It's a promise."

"I told you not to--"

"It's a promise," Tsuzuki said again, his voice determined.

Hisoka swallowed thickly. He knew there was nothing he could do to dissuade Tsuzuki, not once he'd made up his mind. Hisoka clenched his jaw, knowing that if he tried to speak now, he'd have no control over what came out.

"It will be ok, really," Tsuzuki said as he stepped towards the bed, his presence pulling back painfully from Hisoka's grasp. Even though Tsuzuki was already shielding the emotions Hisoka had tasted only moments before, Hisoka still knew that he wasn't the only one who was afraid. Tsuzuki was an expert of hiding how he felt, but Hisoka had come to know him better than anyone.

_Please be safe._

Tsuzuki picked up his trench coat which had been draped over his bag. It was too hot for coats, but Hisoka thought that Tsuzuki was used to putting up more than just mental barriers.

_Please come back to me._

Hisoka bit his tongue, held his breath until his chest burned, and watched as Tsuzuki walked out the door.

qpqpqpqp

Hisoka reread the same paragraph for the third time, glanced at the hotel's old alarm clock, tried to find his spot again. Crossed his legs, shifted nervously, realized he'd jumped a page ahead, glanced at the clock again.

"Damn it!" Hisoka threw the journal Watari had loaned him and it went careening through the air, and landed near the bathroom door with a thump. He didn't even care that it looked as if he'd knocked the pages loose from their binding.

Who cared about some empath who'd gone crazy years ago--who'd died years ago? Hisoka wasn't like him. At least about the crazy part. Maybe.

Hisoka stood up and glared at the clock. Not even fifteen minutes had passed since Tsuzuki had left. Fifteen agonizingly slow minutes. The alarm clock must be broken. It was old after all so that had to be it.

There was a loud pattering outside the hotel window; it'd begun to rain.

He tried to remember the times Tsuzuki had gone with Muraki alone before. How had he been calm then? Of course, the first time he'd been tied up and bleeding to death, so really, he'd had no say in the matter.

Then there had been the Queen Camella. He hadn't expected Muraki to be a passenger, for their undercover identities to work against him. He'd only managed to keep Tsuzuki out of Muraki's clutches by a lucky hand of cards. Hisoka could see now that he'd been too distracted with his own problems, with Tsubaki, to see the sort of threat Muraki presented, not to himself, but to Tsuzuki. At the time, he hadn't even understood why he was so compelled to keep Tsuzuki from losing his wager with Muraki, or why smelling Muraki's cologne on Tsuzuki's clothes made his desire for revenge that much sharper.

Always so ignorant.

The third time, was when he first encountered Muraki in Kyoto, standing over the body of a dead woman. Could he really claim to still be clueless then? Hisoka knew he couldn't have been so blind as to not see the way Muraki looked at Tsuzuki, how all his plans somehow revolved around his partner. And under all of Tsuzuki's righteous anger, hadn't Hisoka felt for a while that there was something else lurking under the surface? But he'd allowed Tsuzuki to go with Muraki alone. Was it because he was afraid to protest then? Because it wasn't his place? Because…even if he wanted Tsuzuki to be safe, he was too afraid to stand in Muraki's way?

But even then, he'd been anything but calm. Hisoka hadn't slept but a few hours that night, all his dreams riddles that somehow always led back to Tsuzuki. And in the morning, when he'd found Tsuzuki on the Philosopher's path, felt how abruptly his partner had changed… Hisoka knew something was wrong, that something must have happened with Muraki, but Tsuzuki only pushed him away. Tsuzuki wasn't the type to reveal himself willingly, even if they were partners.

Tsuzuki was always trying to be strong for the sake of others. Always hiding the truth even when he himself needed to be saved. Always sacrificing everything because he felt like nothing.

Why had none of it changed?

The last time Muraki had Tsuzuki, it had almost been the end of everything. They'd both almost lost their second lives, the one life that really counted to Hisoka. Hadn't he vowed to never let Tsuzuki be hurt again? That tearstained face, so hopeless, still haunted Hisoka's dreams, and he never wanted to see Tsuzuki lost like that again.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, because Tsuzuki had decided to stay with him. Tsuzuki had told Hisoka that he loved him. But nothing had changed, not really. Tsuzuki would still readily give himself over to the devil if it meant he could help someone else.

No matter how strong Tsuzuki seemed, even after how far they'd come since Kyoto, Tsuzuki still didn't see himself the same way Hisoka did.

They hadn't come far enough.

And now he was out there. With Muraki.

Hisoka looked at the clock one more time, and then out the window. It was pouring down heavily. The city had been reduced to a blur, shapes drifting slowly over the pane.

Alone. With Muraki.

Tsuzuki had promised. He said he would be back.

But he was alone.

Why had Hisoka let him go alone?

Hisoka walked quickly to his own bags and pulled out his denim jacket. It was the best he had with him, and there wasn't time to worry about getting wet. Hisoka took a deep breath, and teleported from the hotel.

The park was completely empty this time, not a person in sight, unlike when they'd come to investigate it before. It seemed that rain was a better deterrent than death. Hisoka pulled his denim jacket tighter around him so that the droplets couldn't sneak into the back of his collar, and started down one of the park's main paths. There was no sign of Muraki or Tsuzuki, not that he'd really expected them to still be here.

He just hoped that they had moved to somewhere close by. Hisoka knew he'd said he wouldn't use his empathy for a while, but now was hardly the time to be concerned about getting lectured. Hisoka closed his eyes and reached outwards, focusing all his energy on any traces of his partner his empathy could pick up.

The rain diluted his empathy like it did any of his other senses. It was hard to feel anything distinct, and he forced his power out further, brow puckering in concentration.

It shouldn't have been so hard. Usually he could zero in on Tsuzuki without even meaning to. He was a familiar force that Hisoka often relied on when his empathy was surrounded by the unknown.

"Please," Hisoka begged quietly. He had to find him. He wanted to be closer, to feel Tsuzuki's emotions like a second skin, like they had been in the hotel. He wanted to know when Tsuzuki was scared, when he was happy.

That way he would know Muraki wasn't hurting him. Hisoka would prevent those emotions from turning into despair, would shield Tsuzuki if he had to. He would do anything, as long as it wasn't standing helplessly in the rain like he was now.

Grinding his teeth, Hisoka reached out as far as he could, felt the painful stretch of his awareness, and then the answering brush of _something_. It was too far away for him to tell who or what it was. It didn't feel quite like the way Tsuzuki should, but with the rain and how faint it was, Hisoka couldn't be sure.

The presence pulsed once, then twice, like a beacon, and Hisoka started walking steadily in that direction. Whatever it was, it was trying to attract his attention, and he hoped that was a good sign.

Water sloshed into his sneakers as he walked quickly from the park and down a side street. The further he walked, the more distinct the signal was, and after a few minutes he knew it wasn't Tsuzuki. He paused for a moment, unsure. It felt somehow familiar, as if he should know whose energy it was. He wracked his brain to try and recall when he'd felt it before, but couldn't quite place it. Hisoka almost decided to drop the trail and continue his search for Tsuzuki, but he knew there wasn't a single hint of his location. Besides, the fact that the energy was still reaching out to him, tugging on his senses so relentlessly, urged him to find its owner. He started walking again.

The rain was warm, drenching his jacket and then his shirt. He didn't mind it too much, all his attention was focused on the energy that was growing stronger with each minute that passed, drowning out his worry. He noticed that he was walking away from the interior of the city. At first small houses with modest yards lined the streets, but as he turned onto another puddle laden corner, he saw that houses looked more like estates, wrought iron fences guarding elaborate grounds and multistory houses.

Did the person reaching out to him live in one of these homes? He'd been walking for quite a while now, probably close to an hour. Hisoka pulled out his cell phone and glanced at the time. It was only then that he realized that no one knew where he was. _He_ didn't even know where he was. If this turned out to be some sort of trap, then he wouldn't even have Tsuzuki as back up.

Hisoka stared at the phone in his hand. Any other time he would call Tsuzuki to tell him what was happening, but at this very moment Tsuzuki was with Muraki. Another wave of anger and anxiety washed over him.

He pushed his wet bangs back from his eyes and swallowed. He didn't have anyone else to call either. He might have considered Watari, but at the moment he thought hearing his voice might make his mood worse.

Resolutely, he shoved his phone back in his pocket. He let out a long breath and allowed the presence to guide him once more. Hisoka was strong enough to take care of himself. He didn't need Tsuzuki or anyone else.

Besides, the energy was so close now that he could feel it buzzing in the back of his mind. Through the cascading rain, he looked up to see a house looming up ahead. It was built in a manor style, rows of windows all with drawn curtains, and large doors framed by tall pillars. Hisoka stopped in his tracks, eyes darting over the house's exterior, senses tingling.

This was the one. He could feel the power pulling him closer, and had the most eerie feeling of déjà vu.

He had to get inside if he was going to find whoever was calling out to him, but he was still wary not to just walk right through the front gate. No, there had to be a less conspicuous way to get inside. So then he was walking again, circling the black fence around the house's grounds, as if drawn by an invisible string.

There was another gate near the back of the house, and Hisoka approached it cautiously, eyes trained on a security camera mounted over it. He pushed back against the energy reaching out from the house, just to be sure, and felt the force double, making his empathy ache against the power of it.

He cringed, a headache forming at his temples. His fingers dug into his jeans pocket to retrieve a fuda, but the paper was a soggy wad now and the ink had run. They would be of no use to him.

Hoping that he wasn't walking blindly into trouble, he shifted into spirit form, and stepped through the gate. There was a slight resistance as he walked through the metal, the remnants of some magical barrier tingling against his skin. It was faded just enough that it wasn't difficult to pass through, but still strong enough for him to know the magic was only recently disbanded.

Had the same person reaching out to him deactivated the spell? Or was it that since the spell was no longer in place, there was nothing to prevent the signal from reaching him?

He tried to feel for any other magic he might unknowingly walk into, but it was difficult to sense anything other than the energy that was now almost to the point of suffocating him.

Hisoka crossed the lawn between the gate and the side of the house. From where he stood, all he could see were more windows, and neatly trimmed hedges. Carefully, he tried to look into one of the windows, but through the small gap between heavy drapes there was only darkness. It didn't look like anyone was inside…

His fingers ran over the window ledge and he felt yet again the sting of a recently broken barrier spell. He braced himself, tried not to feel the pain beginning to spread over the back of his skull and down his neck, and walked through the wall.

It was harder to make it through the residue of this spell than the one at the gate. By the time he was on the other side, he had to stop and catch his breath. The room held a dusty musk that felt heavy in his lungs. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw that not only were all the lights off in the room, but he was also surprised to see that the window was no longer there. In its place was a painting of a woman working a loom.

Slowly, Hisoka's eyes adjusted to the dark and he could make out the rest of the room's decorations. They were all tasteful, and most likely expensive. However, while he was sure that windows had lined the outside of the house, there wasn't a single one in sight now.

Even though the barrier spells had been taken down, it was clear that there was still other magic in use.

He carefully walked into the hallway. He couldn't detect any other signs of life, but he was still unsure of how well his empathy would be able to distinguish anything else from the signal pulsing so loudly in his mind.

Silently, he walked down the hall, eyes darting over the shadows created by lamps and wall hangings. As foreign as the surroundings were, they somehow felt familiar. When he reached the bottom of a flight of stairs, the energy grew stronger. He was close.

Taking the steps two at a time, he made it to the second floor quickly. It was strange to find a grey metal door on the landing, something that didn't match the décor of the house at all. He stared at the door for a moment, unease building in his stomach. Hisoka reached out and touched the handle, and when there was no reaction, he cautiously opened the door.

Hisoka froze in the doorway.

Before him, in both directions, stretched a barren hallway, white walls only broken by the occasional door. He was back in that place, the horrible house that Mammina and Ayame had barely escaped from. Hisoka braced himself and nervously stepped through the door.

There was no sign of those faceless nurses, but the thought of where he'd unknowingly walked into was enough to rattle his nerves. This wasn't a safe place for someone like him, although he had to remind himself, he didn't fit with the demon's penchant for women.

The energy tugged at him, as if to remind him why he was here, and Hisoka's eyes immediately locked on a door standing ajar down the hall.

Hisoka's feet started moving before he could stop himself. The door creaked as Hisoka pushed it the rest of the way open. The first thing he saw was that there was only one bed in the room, leather straps hanging limply from its metal railings. Otherwise, it looked just like the room he'd seen through Ayame's eyes. It took him a second to realize that one of the railings was lowered, allowing a woman to sit on the edge of the bed, her back to the door.

Hisoka could feel the pulse in his mind pick up pace, mirroring the pounding in his chest. Her narrow shoulders were hunched under a pale blue hospital gown, head hung low in a cascade of stringy blonde hair. She wasn't moving at all, her back barely shifting as she breathed. The silence was unnerving, making Hisoka's own breathing sound abnormally loud in his ears.

He wetted his lips, feeling her energy burn hotter, picking abrasively at his empathy with unorganized swirls of emotions. "Who are you?" he asked, his words startlingly loud in the silence.

Her shoulders quivered, and the bed creaked slightly. "You actually came," she said tiredly. "I thought it might be you. After that day…"

Hisoka focused on her energy, on the familiar lilt in her voice. A thought bloomed in his mind, and he asked suspiciously, not daring to jump to conclusions just yet, "What day? Do I know you?"

The woman raised her hand and brushed back some of her hair, her voice coming out a bit stronger. "It's all your fault you know. I could have fixed all this with that spell."

Hisoka sucked in a breath, memories flashing brightly in his memory. "Are you…?"

She peered over her shoulder first, eyes assessing him, before she shifted sluggishly on the mattress, revealing the rounded front of her gown. Hisoka's eyes widened, watching as her hand gingerly touched the swell of her stomach, and then he looked up to see the look of disgust painted on her gaunt features.

"You remember me don't you?" she asked coarsely.

He did. He'd seen that same face full of anger not long ago, bathed in the red glow of magic and innocent souls. He could recall her energy as it was then, similar to the piercing power now, but so much stronger, full of so much more loathing. On that night, when he had inadvertently made a wish to that demon instead of her, it had turned into a nightmare. He hadn't thought they would ever come face to face again, and certainly not like this.

And the size that she was now…"That time, you were already…?"

Her hand clenched over her stomach. "That's right. And I managed to get away. I was going to put a stop to everything then, but you had to show up and ruin everything."

"All those souls, it's your fault that they were destroyed. Those were innocent people! Of course we tried to stop you!" Hisoka wanted to stay calm, but he blamed her for more than just the loss of those souls. Because of her, because of that spell, he now had to endure those painful memories.

She laughed, a sharp sound that cracked weakly. "A small sacrifice if it meant stopping what was going to happen, what _will _happen now. You have no idea. A hundred souls, a thousand, it would have been worth it to save millions."

Hisoka took a step forward, trying to read the expression on her face better. "What do you mean? What is it you are trying to prevent from happening?"

"It can't be helped now." She placed both her palms on her stomach and looked at it sadly. "You can see can't you? It's too late to stop it now."

"Your baby?" Hisoka followed the slow rubbing of her hands and he frowned.

She nodded.

"You can come with me," he offered. He didn't quite understand the situation, but it was clear that she was sickly, and pregnant on top of that. Even if what she'd done sickened him, he was obligated to try and help her now. He knew for sure that he wouldn't leave her here. "I work with people that can help you."

"Impossible." She gazed at him sardonically. "Haven't you realized it by now?"

Her vague answers tinted with condemnation were beginning to get on Hisoka's nerves. He didn't like being in this place as it was, and she was only making things worse. "Realized what?" he snapped.

"All the barriers have been removed from the house. There is no one else here. Not the doctor. Not the nurses. Not the women. The only one left in this house…is you."

Hisoka stared at her and felt the unsteady weight of her energy once again. "You are right here. I can see you."

"Yes, _you_ can see me." She sighed heavily. "I thought it might be my last chance to warn someone. _Anyone_. The chances that it would end up being you… well, perhaps I'm just lucky." She started laughing again, but this time it ended in a dry coughing fit. Hisoka took another few steps closer, considering offering assistance, but she held up her hand. "I might not be very strong anymore, I grow weaker by the day, but I did this little spell so that someone might find this place and be told what happened here."

He watched as she squeezed a hand over her chest, and panted to catch her breath properly. It was difficult to believe that she was merely an illusion, but he could remember how strong her magic had been on the night of their first meeting and knew that it wasn't entirely impossible.

"Then tell me," he said finally. "What happened to you? To those women?"

"We were taken because of what we are. All with powers, just like you. You should be able to understand the way others see people like us. As if we are freaks, things to despise, to exploit. It's the same for all of us." Her voice was gaining strength again, as if driven by the importance of what she had to say.

"And so we all ended up here. Because there are unpretty things in the world that no one sees. They're are all afraid of us for being different but they should be fearing the demons, the real monsters that are waiting to tear them apart."

"Demons? Like those nurses?"

She didn't ask him how he knew about them, but instead shook her head. "Worse. They only work for the other ones. There are real demons. Ones that look like us."

"Like the one that placed the indicias? Do you know who--"

She sneered. "This isn't just one person. This is big. All the way to the top."

"You mean--"

"The devil! He wants an army. Something strong enough so that he can enslave us all--have anything he wants."

Hisoka wasn't sure if he believed her. The way she talked was fanatical, like Kano had been. He couldn't be sure what had been done to her in this place, just how sane she was, and her emotions were too powerful and complex to understand. But if she was telling a fraction of the truth… "That's why he wants psychics?"

"Because we are strong enough to bear the soldiers. Because people like us are more likely to have children with powers." She stared at him with dead eyes.

"How do you know all this?" he asked, delicately trying to figure out how much was true. But there was evidence right before him that she couldn't be outright lying. She was pregnant, in her last term if the size was any indication, and what she was saying could explain some of what they already knew.

Why the demon only went after psychics…only after women.

The missing organs.

Indicias…something that was forbidden under the treaty between Makai and Meifu.

"I was one of the first--one of the strongest too. I heard things, saw things you can only imagine. I _know_ what I'm saying." She pulled down the collar of her gown to reveal an indicia, dark lines bold against pale skin. "This binds us to him."

"Him? So you know who placed that on you? Then tell me a name! Tell me where he has taken the women!"

She dug her nails into the marking on her chest, her eyes flashing with anger. "I can't tell you. Not a name. Not a place."

Hisoka groaned angrily. "Then what is it that you expect me to do?!" She was wasting his time! What good was it to know what they were doing to the women if he couldn't stop it?! And right now Tsuzuki could be in trouble, could need him at that very moment, and here he was talking to an illusion!

"You can stop them!" she screamed, red spreading hotly through her face and giving it the first hints of color. "I know what you are! I can sense it!"

"What I am--what the hell do you mean?!"

"Your power! We both know what it means to be like this. You can use your power!"

"I'm an empath. That is all my power is. I can hardly use that to stop anyone. If anything, it is a hindrance most of the time."

"You're a fool!" She stood up shakily, face enraged, and staggered towards him. "Look at what they've done to me! I can feel my energy sapping away each day! There is nothing left that I can do, and yet here you are free, and you dare to say that you'll do nothing?!"

"I didn't say that! But how am I supposed to stop someone when I don't know who or where they are?!"

"I told you didn't I? Use your power, damn it! Stop thinking of it as a burden, and use it!" She took one final step forward and nearly stumbled, grabbing onto both of his arms to support herself. Hisoka didn't have time to wonder how he could actually feel her fingers digging into his sleeves or the weight of her body. "What is the point of wishing you were stronger, if you don't use what you are already given?" she growled.

"I--"

"Or are you afraid of what might happen?"

"Why would I--" he started again indignantly.

Her eyes were close now, dark and piercing into his. "Then maybe it is only a push you need? Maybe you just don't realize your potential yet?"

It felt like there were hot coals on his arms, the burn of her energy sinking through his damp clothes and singing his skin. "Shit!" he hissed painfully. "Let go!"

Her hands tightened, the heat intensifying until he felt as if his bones were catching fire. "No! If you are too weak to do it on your own, then I'll show you! It is time you owned up to what you are!"

Hisoka tried to wrench himself away, but he couldn't move, couldn't even scream as a wave of pain tore through him. He watched her through watering eyes--watched as she disintegrated into splatters of color. She covered his clothes and skin, sinking down, hot water absorbing into his pores.

Hisoka stumbled back.

Pumping in his bloodstream. A sharp ringing in his ears. He was--

Contaminated.

No. Had to get out. Tsuzuki. He had to--

Hard to move. Couldn't focus his energy. Needed to get out. Walking. So slow. Too slow. If he was caught. If they caught him now--

Breathing. Had to listen so he wouldn't forget to--inhale. Exhale.

So loud. Everything. How would he hear if they were coming? How would he hear Tsuzuki when-- if he could even make it back. Everything was so heavy. Legs not working right.

Air. Hot out here too. Water running down his face, needles on his skin. All mixing with the pain. Slowly. Hard to keep track of the streets, just knowing that his feet were still moving.

Liquid sloshing through his ears, heart pounding loudly, dripping down his neck. Still having trouble breathing. Could only gasp sharply--tried to focus on where he was going. Stumbled past people. Shapes running to get out of the rain.

Their emotions clung as they went by. Painful. Too loud. Sticky and too hard to swallow. Had to breathe. Step forward. Hand clawing into the walls. Had to stay upright. Get back to where Tsuzuki would be. Just had to stay awake. Moving.

Don't stop.

Couldn't see through the rain--streams of light. His skin was tearing--burning. He was in that fire again, his body getting eaten away. Hisoka bit his tongue, held the pain in his throat, tried to swallow it back. Why couldn't he swallow? Gagging.

Hurt.

Stairs. Had to climb, couldn't fall. Hands on old wallpaper, emotions collecting under his nails like slivers. There was screaming, so loud. Voices everywhere, faces blocking his vision, blocking the stairs. Couldn't walk.

Fingers damp, grasping desperately. Can't focus on the…need to focus. Tumbling forward, calling out weakly.

Back in the hotel room. He'd made it. Just had to--

Tsuzuki. Where was Tsuzuki? Had to find-- white through his fingers, hurt less. The sheets smelled like him, cool against his face. Tsuzuki?

He was burning from the inside.

So hot. Shivering. Remember to breathe. Had to breathe. Inhale around his name. Push everything away, protect were its bleeding, try not to let it in.

He didn't know what to do. Scared. Where was Tsuzuki? Why wasn't he here? Hisoka let out a sob, eyes darting around the room, silhouettes scattering like living things, hiding under the beds. A butterfly, wings spread, wilted against the far wall--the journal.

A choking laugh. Was this it? Was he going crazy too, just like the man in the journal?

Emotions--echoing colors, suffocating him, filling his chest. Driving out the sanity.

A sudden displacement of air. There was a shadow standing in the doorway.

Tsuzuki?

AN: Thanks for reading folks! I know it took me WAY longer than it should have to update, but I've been working ridiculous hours at work, so please forgive me. I have already started on chapter 11 and it is turning out to be a doozey to write, so please send a review and positive writing vibes!


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Tsuzuki hunched his shoulders, pulling his collar tight across the back of his neck. He stared out into the empty park, but saw nothing. The sound of the rain falling through the trees drowned out the rest the city. White noise; he was alone. His back was pressed firmly to a tree, hands clenched deep in his pockets.

Water dripped off the tips of his bangs and into his eyes. He squeezed them shut and took a deep breath.

What was he doing here?

He'd asked himself the question countless times before. He knew the answer but it didn't stop him from asking anyway.

His gut was twisted painfully and his whole body was in a cold sweat that had nothing to do with the weather. He knew why he was here, that he had to do all he could to save the kidnapped women, but it didn't stop him from wishing he could walk away.

Before Muraki showed up. Before he couldn't escape.

Another deep breath. Pressing harder into the tree trunk.

He had a job to do. He knew that. Just as well as he knew that he could never live with himself if he messed this up just because he was --scared-- and caused those women to die needlessly. It wasn't fair to them to be afraid of a lunch meeting when they were--

He shouldn't think about that.

He had to keep a cool head. He'd promised Hisoka that he'd be strong, not let Muraki get to him, and he knew he couldn't break this promise. Not when it was to Hisoka. Not after what happened last time Muraki had him.

A shudder rolled through him and he tried not to think about the bite of metal against his throat; cold fingers running down his chest. His throat became dry. He didn't want to remember how poor Mariko screamed in his ears, begging him not to kill her, all while Muraki laughed-- laughed while he peeled back the folds of Tsuzuki's yukata. A scrutinizing gaze. Pain. Always pain with millions of roses scattered across the lab floor.

But he couldn't feel Muraki all the time, not when the cold sterility of the lab was replaced by rice fields and he could feel the sting of rocks pelting his back. Running until his legs gave out, his lungs burning. Always burning. And all he could hear was his own sobbing, loud and insignificant when everyone hated him.

And he could always feel it, warm blood dripping through his hands, strands of hair tangled in his fingers, cloudy eyes staring up at him. And when he couldn't stand the stare any longer it would become his own blood, flowing thickly from his wrists.

Never enough. Because even if he could escape the hell of his mind for a few clear moments, he couldn't escape Muraki. Not that there was a reason to. Not that he hadn't done so much wrong in his life. Not that he didn't deserve it-- and if enduring the pain Muraki offered was all it took to get his only chance at redemption--for everything to finally end, then it was worth it.

But that hadn't been right at all, because Hisoka offered a different existence entirely-- real redemption. Because it wouldn't hurt so much to live for someone else -- not like it hurt when he lived selfishly for himself. And he could forget the blood when Hisoka was in his arms, and he could smile when Hisoka was smiling back.

And that was enough. More than enough.

Tsuzuki just had to keep reminding himself. He had the right to be here, because Hisoka needed him. No matter what Muraki said, no matter how much his words sounded like the truth at times, he had to remember that he was here because of Hisoka, so it didn't matter.

Hisoka had chosen him to be by his side, him of all people, so the least he could do was be strong. Around Hisoka, it was always easier: to cry or to be brave. As long as he could remember Hisoka was waiting for him he could get through this.

He only regretted leaving him so upset. Hisoka was just scared like he was. It had been hard to see his hands shaking at his sides, begging him not to go. Maybe he wasn't being fair, leaving like this, but Muraki knew _something_. He probably knew who was behind this, and Tsuzuki couldn't just forget the lives he had to protect.

Even when Hisoka looked at him like that, eyes revealing things rarely said, Tsuzuki couldn't stay. It had been difficult too, because even yelling, Hisoka felt good in his arms. He was always so good, even if he was angry -- because Tsuzuki wasn't alone. He knew he was wanted when Hisoka would call him an idiot and try not to smile. When he would hit him with a book. When he would willingly rest in his arms. It all told him he was good enough in subtle ways that Tsuzuki relied on more than he'd ever admit.

So much so, that Tsuzuki couldn't stand the thought of Hisoka hating him. He'd held him close and willed him to understand why he had to do this. But that wasn't enough. He couldn't convey something so important in a simple touch. How could he ask Hisoka to trust him? To believe in his promises?

And Hisoka looked so-- he'd hesitated, but Hisoka looked like he wanted it too. Tsuzuki hadn't meant to go so far, not when he was already asking so much of him, but-- Hisoka was always so beautiful. His green eyes had flashed with a sharp edged heat, the sort of strength that Tsuzuki always admired. But his face was flushed with anger and anxiety, his jaw trembling just perceptibly under his touch, warm breath tickling over his fingers, and it was all so sweetly fragile. Hisoka was more real than anything Tsuzuki had had in years, and he never wanted to let go--couldn't stop when Hisoka was so close, _wanted_ to be close-- not when he'd thought about kissing him again countless times since they'd been released from the infirmary.

Not when Hisoka kissed back. And it felt--

He brushed back his waterlogged hair and his eyes swept across the park again.

Being with Hisoka felt like more than he ever thought he'd be worthy of, but he was learning to get used to that, and he had no intention of ever letting go. He would return to Hisoka's side because he was everything. He wouldn't break this promise.

Tsuzuki took a deep breath and tried to clear his thoughts. Muraki would be here any moment, and he had to be alert. He couldn't let himself be afraid--couldn't even be distracted with the thought that he'd kissed Hisoka.

Another wave of nerves hit him.

Because Muraki would know. Somehow he was always able to pick a person apart and know every one of their secrets. He could still recall the disgustingly knowing look Muraki had given him, as if he knew exactly how he felt about Hisoka. That look; as if he were no better than Muraki for wanting him.

It would be just another thing Muraki would try and use against him. He couldn't be weak.

Couldn't--

"Tsuzuki-san."

The voice made Tsuzuki's body stiffen, but he covered his reaction and turned his head to see Muraki approaching casually, protected from the rain by an umbrella.

"Muraki."

Muraki stopped a few feet away, and he could see the satisfaction in his smile.

"I hope you weren't waiting long."

Tsuzuki remained silent.

Muraki didn't seem to notice his lack of response. "Well then, there is no point standing out here. I've made reservations."

Muraki turned and began walking. Tsuzuki pushed away from the tree and followed, making sure to leave enough distance between them so that he'd be able to react if the doctor made any sudden moves. He didn't trust him not to have hidden motives.

Muraki inclined his umbrella towards him in invitation. Tsuzuki tightened his fists, and declined with a tip of his head, more water dripping from his hair.

"It is a shame to put your health at risk Tsuzuki-san," Muraki chastised.

Tsuzuki let out a disbelieving sound, that might have showed some of his nervousness. "You know it doesn't matter."

"Habit I suppose." Muraki gave him a sideways glance through the fringe of his bangs. "I am a doctor after all."

Something bubbled up inside Tsuzuki, and had to stop himself from laughing. A doctor was someone who helped people, who gave them hope, but he'd only ever seen Muraki cause misery.

Tsuzuki felt the rain trailing down his coat sleeves and between his fingers. It took all his willpower not to check his watch, to not reaffirm that it was only rain. Hisoka was waiting for him back in the hotel room, he reminded himself. But somehow it was always harder to remember in Muraki's presence.

"I'll take your coats sirs," a young woman offered when they arrived at the door to the restaurant.

Muraki removed his coat in a single motion and handed it to the woman along with his umbrella. Tsuzuki reluctantly took off his own. Most of his fuda were in his coat pockets, so he was disarming himself somewhat, but it was also waterlogged and hardly practical to wear in a restaurant. Especially one as nice as the one they'd just entered. She was already eyeing him distastefully.

"The restroom is that way," she suggested, pointing down the corridor to the left of the coat closet.

Tsuzuki hesitated but then decided that he'd be able to confront Muraki much better without his hair hanging in his face.

"Thank you," he said before retreating down the hall. He sighed in relief when Muraki didn't follow. So everything was ok. Muraki didn't have him alone. They were in public. Just lunch. There wasn't anything Muraki could do to him with people watching.

In the bathroom Tsuzuki grabbed a hand towel and did his best to dry his hair. Luckily his coat had kept him dry for the most part, only the cuffs of his shirt and some of the collar being damp. The bottom of his pants legs were a different matter entirely, but they wouldn't be as obvious once he was seated at the table.

Eventually he gave up and looked at himself in the mirror. His reflection was pale, and his damp hair looked black, which made his purple eyes stand out even more. He stared at himself for a moment, a small wave of frustration weaving its way into his anxiety. Why did it have to be so obvious? Why couldn't…

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

When Tsuzuki walked back to the entrance, the coat lady led him to the correct table. Muraki was already glancing over a menu, while swirling a glass of wine lazily in his other hand. Tsuzuki sat down across from him and only made a passing glance at his own menu. Free food or not, he wasn't hungry in the least.

Muraki picked up the open bottle and looked pointedly at the empty glass in front of Tsuzuki. "Would you like some? It's quite good."

"Isn't it a little early to be drinking?" Tsuzuki said snidely.

"It is never a bad time to enjoy a drink with a good friend, Tsuzuki-san," Muraki said, his smile widening slightly. "And it has been some time since I've had the pleasure of your company."

A shiver rose up Tsuzuki's spine and he tried to convince himself that it was because he was cold in his drying clothes. He wouldn't let Muraki get to him. It wasn't about what was between them. It was about the women.

"The pleasure is all yours. I came here because you said you had information."

Muraki set down his menu and took a sip from his glass. "As impatient as ever, I see."

"If you know something about the missing women, then tell me--"

Muraki held up his hand, cutting him off just as a waitress came to take their order. "Tsuzuki-san, since you haven't had a chance to look at your menu, would you give me the liberty to order for you? This restaurant has a wonderful Trenette Al Pesto."

Tsuzuki gritted his teeth, and nodded. The waitress gave him a wary glance, but her face lit up when Muraki smiled at her. She took their menus away, blushing. It was enough to make Tsuzuki sick.

"You should work on your manners. That poor girl might get the wrong idea with such a sour expression."

"What are you doing here?" Tsuzuki asked forcefully. "It can't be a coincidence that you showed up here _now_. How are you involved in this?"

"How indeed?" Muraki's eyes narrowed. "I'm curious Tsuzuki-san, do you expect me to give all the answers without anything in return? That hardly seems fair."

Tsuzuki straightened in his seat, his hands curling into fists under the table. "What do you want then?"

"What have I always wanted? Just a little…_cooperation_." Muraki's eyes seemed to burn into his, and couldn't stop himself from looking away, his gaze landing on the table. The low lighting made the grain of the table a deep red, a pool of blood stretching out from Muraki's white fingertips. Tsuzuki stared at those hands, horror building relentlessly in his gut. He could feel the edge of the blade wedged between his ribs, his chest flayed open, and the hot breath ghosting over his cheek. _"How cooperative you're being. You're so beautiful like this Tsuzuki-san."_

It took him a moment to regulate his breathing. Even then it was hard for him to look Muraki straight on.

"It would be a shame to spoil our reunion with talk of only business," Muraki continued as if he was unaware of the reaction he'd caused.

Tsuzuki swallowed and gathered what resolve he could muster. "There is nothing else to discuss."

"I must disagree." Muraki picked up the bottle of wine once again and poured some into Tsuzuki's glass. "You see, when it comes to you, it has always been difficult for me to stay strictly to business."

Tsuzuki swallowed. He had no idea where Muraki was going with this. There wasn't anything he would be useful for, not now that Muraki's lab was destroyed. What could he want?

Muraki eyed him closely, and then smiled. "First, try the wine."

Tsuzuki picked up the glass and took a sip after making sure to give Muraki a thoroughly scathing look. If Muraki wanted him to play his little game, fine, but he wouldn't be leaving until he got the information he wanted.

"Happy?" he spat.

"Very."

"Now, tell me what you know!"

"Fine, a small reward." Muraki leaned back in his seat and folded his hands. "Those women you're so intent on finding, they're all still alive."

Tsuzuki slammed his glass back on the table, some of the wine spilling on the table. "So you're a part of it then? Did you kill Atsuya-san?!"

"Calm down, Tsuzuki-san. You're getting stares."

Tsuzuki glanced to the side to see that some of the other patrons were looking at their table in alarm. He took a deep breath and tried to relax his posture. His next words came out in a low growl. "Did you kill her?"

"No," Muraki answered simply.

He didn't believe him. Muraki always lied when it suited him. "Then how do you know that the women are alive?!"

"I didn't deny my involvement completely."

The statement hung in the air as the waitress came with their food. However even she seemed aware of the tension between them and didn't stay long.

"What are you doing Muraki?" Tsuzuki hissed. "What do you want with them?"

"I'm sure you've heard what they say about idle hands, Tsuzuki-san. And as you know, Kyoto was quite the set-back in my plans."

"The women have nothing to do with that!"

"On the contrary." Muraki looked at him levelly. "I've been given the opportunity to get what I want, and depending on your cooperation, this could benefit you as well."

"You're talking about people's lives! There isn't anything about this that I want!"

"The Muraki family has been doctors for generations," Muraki said suddenly. "But then you already knew that."

All the heat and anger instantly drained from Tsuzuki's body. He could remember Muraki's words from during the Noh play. He knew he wasn't human. It was always his eyes, but Muraki had confirmed all his worst nightmares, what he'd been the most afraid of his whole life.

"Tsuzuki-san, after I took over my Grandfather's research I became fascinated by you. You can understand can't you, that your eyes have held me spellbound for years."

"Stop it!"

He had to keep it together! He wasn't here for this! He--

"I've studied his papers relentlessly. I know more about you than you know about yourself Tsuzuki-san. You might be able to hide it from your shinigami friends, but you can't hide from me."

Tsuzuki's chest felt constricted, all his resolve becoming tangled with encroaching fear. His fingers curled into his palm, knuckles whitening in a telling way. He wanted to hide his hand under the table, press his wrist protectively to his knee, but it would be obvious. He was a coward. Muraki already knew, had seen, and there was no hiding it. Sharp steel eyes told him so. The scars just burned between him and the doctor, disguised by his watch band. He was painfully aware of how intently Muraki was watching him now.

"Stop it," he managed to say.

"You and I aren't too different Tsuzuki-san. That is why I've come to you with an offer."

"I don't--"

"Your _friends_ will never understand someone like you. But I will. You do Enma's petty work without appreciation. You're his slave, but it doesn't have to be that way. Come, work with me. There are others like you."

"Others--" Tsuzuki took a shallow breath. "You're hurting innocent people! Why would I--"

"But isn't that what you do every day, my dear Tsuzuki? You take lives on Enma's orders, tear apart families. Is that so different?"

The knot in his chest grew worse. He felt nauseous. "I'm not a killer!"

"No? Then what about that day my Grandfather found you?"

He couldn't breathe. His wrist was burning--his lungs burning. No he couldn't--couldn't think about it. That day. If he thought about it now-- Hisoka was waiting. He couldn't--

"They wouldn't understand, but I do."

"Stop saying you understand!" Tsuzuki stood up, fists clenched on the table. No one-- it was a lie. Muraki was just trying to-- and Hisoka.

He was waiting.

"Do you really think the boy will understand? Is that what you're hoping Tsuzuki-san? What will you do when he finds out the truth? When he abandons you?"

"Shut up!"

"You could be a part of something great. Humans are weak creatures, and they will always fear what's different from them. You don't belong with those who can't see magnificence. "

"Shut up! Just--SHUT UP!"

"Sir!" The waitress was standing nervously by their table, hands fiddling with her apron. "Uh, the other customers…if you could keep it down."

Tsuzuki took a few quick breaths, trying to gather his swimming thoughts. "I'm leaving," he forced out.

"You didn't even touch your dinner," Muraki said almost offhandedly.

"I'm leaving," he repeated as if to convince himself. Muraki's gaze was too knowing, too condescending. He couldn't look him in the face.

"Do at least think about my offer Tsuzuki-san. I won't give up so easily."

Tsuzuki took in a rattling breath, and tried to focus. "Whatever you're up to. I will stop you." It sounded hollow.

"I thought you might say that. Pity."

Tsuzuki took a few steps away from the table, the waitress jumping back as if he might attack her. Tsuzuki paused, wanting to apologize to her in some way, but couldn't find the words. He felt sick.

"Oh, Tsuzuki-san," Muraki said as he started forward again. "Be sure to read tomorrow's paper. Do not take my offer so lightly."

Tsuzuki swallowed. He had to leave. If he stayed any longer… He'd promised Hisoka.

He started walking again, forcing himself not to look back. If he saw Muraki's expression, if he really looked into the eyes he felt following him, then he might never make it out. He was hardly able to pay attention as the woman by the door handed him his coat.

Outside the rain hadn't let up. Tsuzuki gasped, taking in deep breaths, as if he hadn't been breathing the whole time he was in the restaurant. It felt as if the claws in his chest had loosened somehow. He struggled for a moment, but then pulled his coat on. He didn't want to think about it at all. But it was all he could think about.

He started walking.

He hadn't learned anything. Muraki had only spun him in circles, said the things he knew would hurt.

And it hurt. Tsuzuki clutched his hand over his watch, fingers tightening until the he couldn't feel the burn anymore. But he couldn't forget the words.

That day…

Muraki knew? How could he?

But everything after that day was like a blur, years passing afterwards without his knowledge. The doctor's face was like a vague memory, something he couldn't quite piece together properly. How…how had he come to be there? Everything was disjointed. He didn't know how he'd gotten to be in Muraki's grandfather's hospital.

What were in those records? How did Muraki know? How much? Or was it all a lie?

Questions kept spinning in his mind, the possible answers turning into more questions. Tsuzuki didn't know what to do. He was afraid to go back like this, memories shouting in the back of his mind, sneaking to the surface. Hisoka would know that something was wrong. He wouldn't be able to hide it. But at the same time he wanted to be back so desperately. He wanted to see Hisoka, to know that at least that part of his life was safe.

Because if Muraki knew the truth then…what would happen if he told anyone else?

Tsuzuki shuddered, images clouding his mind, things he didn't want to remember.

His feet had carried him back to the park, and he stood there blankly for a moment, wondering what to do. He'd failed the women. He didn't really have any new information. It was no good. He was utterly useless.

What could Muraki be thinking?

Join him? Hadn't Muraki tried to kill him? Hadn't he almost killed Muraki?

None of it made sense. What could Muraki want from him now? Was it all just another trick, something to lure Tsuzuki into another one of his disgusting plans?

Because Muraki knew what he was. Muraki knew about the truth.

How could he say he was any better?

Tsuzuki realized he was shivering. He didn't know how long it had taken for him to walk to the park, or how long he'd been standing there, but his coat was soaked all the way through. Hisoka would scold him for being reckless.

He was probably worrying right now.

Tsuzuki let out a sound between a sob and a laugh. He rubbed at his eyes, pushing away as many of his unwanted thoughts as he could until it was possible for him to force a smile. It had never hurt so much to smile.

But he couldn't let Hisoka see him so pathetic. He couldn't break his promise now.

One last deep breath, and then he teleported back to the hotel, his whole body aching with the effort it took to keep his emotions under control.

He ended up in the hallway, dripping on the stained burgundy carpet. Tsuzuki braced himself and walked up to the door. He fiddled with his coat for a minute, his mind racing too fast to remember where he'd stashed the room key. It was pointless anyway, because when he reached for the handle, he found the door already unlocked.

He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but he'd tried to prepare himself to be barraged with questions instantly. He'd thought Hisoka would be waiting impatiently, that adorable angry scowl on his face. He'd-- well anything, but the room was silent.

Hisoka was lying on the bed-- his bed.

He hadn't been gone so long that Hisoka had fallen asleep had he?

Tsuzuki stepped out of his shoes and yanked off his coat. It fell to the floor with a loud thump and Hisoka groaned, his eyes blinking open. Tsuzuki wiped back his hair and tried to laugh, his cheeks feeling too stiff. "Sorry it took me so long!" he said, hoping he sounded normal. "It sure is pouring out there!"

He walked towards the bathroom, averting his eyes from the bed. It sounded fake even to himself. Hisoka would never buy it. He could probably already feel-- Tsuzuki strengthened his shields. As long as he didn't think about it. As long as he forgot about that day--forgot that Muraki might know…

"I--ah," he attempted speak again, the words tripping on his tongue.

There was only silence in return.

Tsuzuki turned around, confused as to why Hisoka wasn't chewing his head off. He'd welcome anything really, anything to distract him, but he couldn't take the silence.

It was the first time he'd gotten a good look at his partner since coming back, but he was surprised he hadn't noticed something was wrong sooner. Hisoka didn't look well. No, he looked awful, as if he had the stomach flu or worse. He was flushed and sweaty, his eyes open but glassy.

"Hisoka?" Tsuzuki hurried over to the bed. "What's wrong?"

"D--" Hisoka mumbled.

"What? Do you have a fever?" Tsuzuki knelt down next to the bed, eyeing Hisoka worriedly. He hadn't been sick earlier… Tsuzuki frowned and pressed his fingers to Hisoka's forehead. The skin was blistering hot, impossibly hot--

"Don't!" Hisoka screamed.

Tsuzuki's arm locked in place, searing heat racing through his bones, ash choking his throat. Hisoka's shout echoed loudly in his ears, but fire was already gathering behind his eyes, nails digging into his scalp, prying his head open ruthlessly.

There was nothing he could do to stop it.

Everything exposed. Everything spilling out. Everything in darkness.

**AN: **And there it is. This was one of the hardest chapters I've worked on, mainly because both Muraki and Tsuzuki are difficult characters, and a whole chapter of them was like pulling teeth. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys. And hello to those new readers I noticed! The next chapter is already in progress, so please send good vibes!


	12. Chapter 12

Ok guys, I'm alive! Thanks for all the reviews and the new readers I've seen pass through my mail box. I really appreciate all of you! Real life has been burying me. Right now between work and school I hardly have any time for myself, and to top it off I'm currently in the midst of applying for transfer to university next year, applying for graduation, and trying to get my transcripts in order. Scholarships wouldn't hurt either… So as you can see, it is only through shear will and love for you guys that I managed to get this chapter out.

I will continue to work on Antumbra since it is my baby, but my time between updates probably won't improve until I get my schedule under better control. All your support does help me in writing faster, trust me, so keep faith!

Now here is chapter 12...please enjoy. And again, since it has been a while, it probably wouldn't hurt to skip through the previous chapter as a reminder.

**Chapter 12**

Hisoka couldn't control his body, everything was becoming fluid and running like water. Tsuzuki's fingers burned, a deep throbbing that seared his nerves. Then that was all he could feel, his world shrinking, collapsing in on itself, until there was only that one spot of pleasure-pain consuming his senses.

Tsuzuki's grip was tight, nails digging into his skin.

He bit his tongue; the blood tasted sweet in his mouth.

And it wouldn't separate anymore. His flesh yielded to the touch, latching on, then devouring. He could feel everything so close--Tsuzuki's pulse in his ears, emotions like silt turning gritty, everything suddenly sour.

And the undeniable urge to get closer, the mindless need to peel back skin and push inside. To join completely.

He couldn't stop. Didn't want to--

Because even emotions that were shrouded icy and dark were clearer than his own. There was only ruthless penetration to that which was closest to the surface, shattering all defenses, burrowing inside where it was weak.

Only then-- at last, color exploded around him in one heaving breath.

And the fire wasn't only in him, but all around, lighting the night like day. Hot ash drifted through the air in eddies, curling around broken houses and billowing into clouds of smoke.

He could see.

Dark. Choking. Putrid--

_They were right._

A pungent smell, raw and wet, mixing with the smoke and fire--cooked meat. Bodies. All the people were dead. Faces stared out from the rubble, unblinking eyes streaked with blood, mouths gaping. Not silent. Not even death could silence--

_Monster. Monster. Demon._

Condemning. They would never be silent. Even the screams couldn't drown out--

_DEMON. Look at those eyes. Unnatural. Disgusting._

A sob rose in his throat but only came out as a pained whine. He moved his hands, trying to cover her ears and stifle the cries. He had to make them stop. The words, the shouts, the screaming, he couldn't let her hear them.

Why couldn't they just be silent?!

He cradled the head in his arms tighter and rocked back and forth, tears blurring and contorting the faces. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry…" There was blood, still warm, dripping over his knees and between his fingers.

He looked down at her sleeping face, his tears falling. "Wake up. I'm sorry--so sorry. Come back. Don't leave--"

_No. No. Sorry. So sorry. Oh please. Oh-- no no no_

All his fault.

Disgusting.

_Demon. _

He was--

"AAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"

His scream could barely be heard through the others, rising in volume until he wanted to claw out his ears.

But then the lights went out, everything suddenly snatched away so only that one singular scream continued to echo. And his whole body rocked back, shoved ruthlessly away, emotions severed like a radio tuner losing the right channel. He could only gasp, all the heat evaporating and leaving a hollow ache.

The touch was gone. The memory pulled back. Emotions dampened. The room rushed into view-- Tsuzuki was backed clear against the opposite wall, face full of horror.

"Tsu--Tsuzuki?" Hisoka's throat constricted on the name. His chest hurt.

Hisoka tried to stand up off the bed, his legs tangling clumsily with the sheets before he stumbled to his feet. He swallowed--the emotions were still crowding in, making him dizzy. But he couldn't look away from Tsuzuki's face. His amethyst eyes were impossibly wide, shining with animalistic fear, lips parted, breaths coming in short pants. He'd seen that same terrible expression before-- countless times on his mother's face.

No.

He didn't need that look of revulsion to understand, the air was thick with enough disgust for him to know he'd ruined everything.

Hisoka took a shaky step but froze when Tsuzuki flinched, the fear increasing in the room to a point that his knees buckled and he had to support himself against the bed. His stomach dropped, a clammy sweat spreading over his neck and the palms of his hands.

_What had he done?_

Everything was ruined. He'd--_No._

He couldn't stand Tsuzuki looking at him like that. Couldn't stand Tsuzuki hating him. Couldn't stand it if the one person he'd ever cared about was afraid of him. Not again. He never wanted to see that look again!

_No. _

Where would he go? Where would he go now that his home was stolen away? Who would take him in?

The emotions increased, and he gagged, trying to not throw up. He took a step back, the room spinning around him. He only just managed to keep his footing.

He needed out.

Couldn't stay.

_Please don't look at me like that!_

Go. He had to--

Hisoka almost couldn't do it, his concentration and energy scattered and unwilling, but then he was no longer in the hotel. With Tsuzuki. With that look. It really was only a blur, ruthless spinning, and when it stopped, he collapsed onto his hands and knees, vomiting as his stomach finally rebelled.

He continued heaving until nothing would come up, only wet coughs interrupting his labored breathing. The floor was cold under his hands, and when Hisoka opened his eyes he saw familiar tile.

Oh.

There was a sound, a door opening, and new emotions rode in like a gust of wind. His elbows shook, threatening to give out and topple him head first into the mess he'd just made.

"Bon?" Watari's voice was laced with worry.

He heard footsteps, black shoes coming in sight. The fire rose again, prickling under his skin, longing to rush out. Hisoka swallowed down the bile in his throat and forced out in a raspy voice, "Don't touch me!"

"How am I supposed to help you then?" The words sounded fuzzy, and as Watari squatted down to get a better look at him, his emotions became dangerously close. "What happened?"

"Nn." Hisoka pushed himself up onto his knees, wiping his mouth ineptly with the back of his hand. The lab was coming in and out of focus, but he could make out the closest counter, and grabbed onto it for leverage. "Just don't--" he grunted, having to stop and grit his teeth as hauled himself up onto wobbly legs.

"Bon! At least lay down. Let me help you to my office--"

"No!" He lurched away from Watari's reach, hands sliding on the countertop. "Don't!"

He knew he couldn't stay on his feet long, and walked unsteadily towards where he thought Watari's office should be, the doorframe a misshapen slanted thing not too far away. But the wall was soft under his hands, organic matter sticking to his fingers, old residue wanting in.

"Bon! Hold on!"

He was falling forward again. He didn't even know when he'd lost his grip but suddenly he couldn't keep upright any longer, a strong vertigo seizing him.

And there were arms catching him--

Wires invading his vision like twisted ropes--everywhere--and the loud hum of electricity like a high voltage line drowning out the far away voices.

And dark hair, just as fine as the wires, blending in, vibrating with the whisper of a velvety voice. "Well done." An overwhelming sense of regret. "My KinU."

Then just as they'd come, the wires were gone. Fizzling white noise rattled behind Hisoka's teeth. Cotton clogged his ears, muting everything. Of what he could see, the room was blurred, only Watari's intense gaze clear, fixed unblinkingly on him. It was so strange, unreadable--but there wasn't fear. He was eternally grateful for that alone.

He hadn't felt himself being maneuvered, but suddenly the world was tipping and his back hit a mattress. The ceiling shook over him, and yellow strands of hair fluttered in and out of his sight.

"Just stay there Bon. Everything will be alright."

But it wasn't, because he was a monster, just like his mother always claimed. He was stealing people's thoughts and emotions, destroying coveted trust. He was invading, like the disgusting pests that snuck into people's homes uninvited. Undesirable. Feared. Loathed.

Tsuzuki's frightened eyes looked so much like hers had when he'd known something he shouldn't. Whenever he'd misbehaved, that disdainful stare would haunt him for days. And the anger and disgust, a sparing glance through the bars before she left him alone in the dark. He couldn't stand it if those were Tsuzuki's eyes. He was going to be left again--after he'd finally gotten this far. After he'd finally began to believe that someone might actually be able to love him. He ruined everything, and destroyed his one chance at happiness.

And now he was going to die all over again. Alone just as before.

Everything hurt so badly, everything that he touched burning like acid. Pain like this could only mean he was dying. Even the air was heavy in his mouth, flowing thickly into his lungs, saturated with the emotions of people long gone. There was no way to keep any of it out. He couldn't raise a single shield, couldn't block out even the smallest sensation. It was all there, raw and eating him alive.

Pain--It had only even hurt this bad in the end, just before he'd died, red lines consuming anything left. How could this be happening again?

There was a bang--the door slamming, and the air grew heavier. It congealed in his chest, turning hard. He couldn't breathe. A groan slipped past his lips, the sound echoing lethargically in his ears.

Watari was talking, but it was as if the words were traveling down a drain, dripping and coalescing into low rumblings. Hisoka tried to turn his head, to focus on what was going on.

"Watari--" he wheezed desperately.

Without warning a hand caught hold of his arm, and his body locked up.

The grip was cold, and Hisoka could only gasp as what felt like frost rolled over him, covering his skin. For a moment he registered a sharp pain, but then there was only silence.

Blissfully numb silence.

And he could breathe.

Sweet air. Clean. Empty.

"Tatsumi, I can't touch him, so if you could check his pulse. I don't want to have to sedate him."

A rustle. It was so quiet that his ears were almost ringing.

Everything ringing. Aftershocks growing faint.

Those cold fingers slid down his arm to press the underside of his wrist, making shivers jolt up his spine. He blinked sluggishly.

"Fast. He seems to be coming around though."

Someone was bent over him with dark hair--owner of cold fingers.

"Kurosaki-kun, can you hear me?"

Ah...Tatsumi.

"Give him a second. He was in pretty bad shape."

And Watari was still there. He'd thought he would have run away...

Those fingers loosened, and fear instantly took over. His hand captured Tatsumi's shirt cuff, not wanting to let go.

"It's alright," Tatsumi said as he gently pried his fingers loose. "As long as I'm here the shadows will stay in place. Contact isn't needed."

Hisoka swallowed. "What...did you do?" he asked in a daze.

"It's a Kangetsukai barrier," he answered succinctly.

Watari stepped closer to the bed, features full of concern. "Where's Tsuzuki, Bon? What happened?"

Tsuzuki...What would they do once they realized what he'd done? Now that he'd hurt him, would he be hated? Would they ostracize him as a shinigami? Force him to resign? Even if it might be deserved, the thought still scared him.

"Was he hurt?" Watari prodded again. Tatsumi now looked worried as well.

"Hurt?" he heard himself whisper.

This time Tatsumi spoke, his piercing blue eyes reading him carefully. "Yes. Did something happen? Why isn't Tsuzuki with you?"

"He..." He didn't know how to say it, how to confess what he'd done. "I left. He…"

"What?"

"I...I t-touched--" That had to be enough. They had to understand what that must mean. "He looked so--" He couldn't bring himself to explain further. His eyes stung, his own emotions finally able to rise to the surface.

"Where?" Tatsumi now asked anxiously. "The hotel?"

Hisoka looked away, eyes fixed on Watari's desk chair. Not too long ago Tsuzuki had sat there, waiting at his bedside. That had only been that morning hadn't it? And yet it seemed so far away now, memories of confessing everything to Tsuzuki while he was held so warmly...they were distant things now. He would never be able to have that again. Even though he'd finally been able to tell Tsuzuki how he felt. His vision was blurring again, this time with tears he couldn't hold back. "Yes...He came back and I--" Hurt. He really hard hurt him. He'd never seen those eyes so terrified, not even with Muraki. And they had been looking at _him_--like a child seeing the boogey man for the first time. "I might of...hurt..."

Tatsumi pivoted as soon as the words were out of his mouth, ready to leave, but Watari placed a hand on his arm. "You have to stay here," he reminded him. "I'll go get him--find out what's going on." Watari looked Hisoka over, and then told him, "Just try to calm down. Give your empathy a chance to power down." There were a hoot as 003 settled on the desk next to them.

He couldn't even get himself to nod. How had everything changed so quickly? Watari was gone the next second, but his panic didn't dissipate. How could he be calm when everything was over?!

"Kurosaki-kun..." There was an awkward pause, as if Tatsumi was unsure what to say, but then he asked hesitantly, "Are you alright?"

"I--" The nausea was back again, his heart beating painfully fast. "W-what did I do...? I...hurt him," he said aghast. "I wanted to protect him and yet--He hates me!"

"Wait, just calm--"

"Don't tell me to calm down! You have no idea! He was--I..." He tried to catch his breath but no matter how much air he drew in it wasn't enough. He felt lightheaded.

"Settle down, Kurosaki-kun, you need to rest. Your empathy has been through some trauma. You can't be sure of what you think you saw at the moment."

"It isn't want I saw! I _felt_ it. H-he was afraid of me! He was disgusted! He'll never want to be near me again. What am I going to do? What--" Why couldn't he breathe?

Tatsumi put a hard hand on his shoulder, giving him a single rough shake, stern eyes silencing him.

"Panicking won't help anything. I understand that you are still in shock, and that not knowing what is going on can be frightening, but for your sake and Tsuzuki's, please try to calm down. Your body has been under great stress, just give it a chance to settle down. When Watari-san returns we can get this all sorted out."

"But--" No Tatsumi was wrong. He was. And now he'd never see Tsuzuki smile at him again. Never write around chocolate smudges on unfinished reports ever again. Never have his hair ruffled in that way he pretended was irritating but he secretly enjoyed.

"Hisoka." All his mounting fear stopped in its tracks, the strangeness of hearing his name spoken by Tatsumi for the first time just as effective as a slap to the face. Tatsumi cleared his throat, as if to try and dispel some of the awkwardness. "Tsuzuki cares for you deeply. I may not know what happened, but I'm sure that nothing you did unintentionally would cause him to hate you."

Tatsumi's sure words--sure eyes--helped to lessen his apprehension despite everything else in him that screamed in defiance. Kind words didn't change what he knew. He'd seen Tsuzuki, felt the damage of what he'd done. With emotions that strong how could he be mistaken? He'd spent years trying in vain to repair what he'd destroyed with his parents, hopelessly doing all he could to win their approval and erase their revulsion of him. There was no going back once it was there--fear was something that always lingered like a stain that could never be scrubbed away.

"I...I might have ruined everything," he murmured brokenly.

Tatsumi pulled up Watari's desk chair and sat down stiffly, giving away that he was probably more anxious than he was letting on. Hisoka wondered what he would feel from him if it weren't for the barrier.

"Just take it easy, and try to have faith that you didn't."

Hisoka inhaled slowly, and squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to see those petrified eyes staring back. Now more than anything, he wished he had said more that morning, something that would have kept Tsuzuki at his side and prevented all of this.

qpqpqpqp

Watari would like to say he hadn't seen this coming, or at least expected it in some way, but scientific minds can never keep themselves from traveling down the road of "what-ifs."

What if: Bon's empathy suddenly grew stronger? What if it happened right in the middle of a very important case--because of said case? What if Bon couldn't handle it? What if Tsuzuki couldn't handle it?

The signs were there before the Kamakura case, when Bon and Tsuzuki had been caught in the demon's spell. As soon as Bon's empathy had begun to return, he knew it was unstable, and had seen how the stress of it was affecting him. So when he'd told Tatsumi that he thought this case would be what it took to push Bon over the edge, it was slightly more than an educated guess.

He'd given Bon the empath's journal in the hopes that it would instill some caution in him. Of course for most shinigami, caution wasn't a concept they understood. Luckily, the human mind was remarkable in its ability to cope, as they all proved.

Watari had full faith that Bon would make it just fine, and with a little help, things could even turn out for the better.

He just had to fix this little predicament first.

He glanced at doors, searching for the right room number. Like Tatsumi, he'd been keeping a close eye on this case. There was too much information they weren't privy to, and he suspected that a great deal of it was purposefully being covered up. No, he didn't fancy himself a conspiracy theorist, but bureaucracy could really be a bitch. Any time Enma took a personal interest in a case it was all the more reason to be suspicious in his mind. Tatsumi might have believed that it was a mere coincidence but even a signature was enough to put Watari on his toes.

He stopped when he spotted the room number he'd been looking for. If he remembered correctly this was the one; if not, someone would get a nice surprise.

Inside, Watari was the one surprised. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but the room didn't look bad at all. Considering the state Tsuzuki's desk could usually be found in, he'd thought it would be full of more food cartons, loose papers, half chewed on pens, take-out menus, or even those strange Dunnies (1) he'd started collecting recently. He suspected it was Bon's influence that kept the room in decent order. There were only four things he could see out of place: Tsuzuki's coat was crumpled on the floor by his feet, one of the bed sheets was spilling over the carpet, the old and fragile journal he'd loaned Bon was carelessly splayed spine-up by the bathroom, and Tsuzuki was huddled against the far wall.

For an upset Tsuzuki, there was far less damage than he'd been anticipating. Tatsumi's ledger books would be pleased.

"Tsuzuki?" he tried hopefully.

There wasn't much in reply. Tsuzuki's head was buried in his knees, looking very much like a little kid--he had a knack for that sort of thing. Sometimes he could even persuade Tatsumi to give him leniency. Watari wished he could pull off that sort of thing. Carefully, He crossed the room, his movements slow and deliberate.

He knew that Tsuzuki's mind was always on the precipice of breaking. It wasn't Kyoto that had given him that belief, although it was certainly the first time he'd seen it for himself. The days when Tsuzuki was at his worst where well before his time, having ended for the most part along with his partnership with Tatsumi. Now, Tsuzuki did his best to hide behind smiles and foolish antics.

They all had their ways of disguising things.

There were probably others who would be better at the task of collecting Tsuzuki while he was emotionally unstable--he knew corny jokes probably wouldn't cover him here, and there certainly wasn't some kind of procedure he could follow step by step to get "optimal results." Hisoka would have been able to snap Tsuzuki out of his funk in a matter of seconds. Even Tatsumi had more experience in these matters. Watari was only Tsuzuki's drinking buddy, the person that went along with most everything because--well, he needed his disguises too.

He wasn't sure if he had the power it would take to get through to him, but Tsuzuki was his friend, part of his dysfunctional family, and he would do his best to get it right.

If Bon's empathy was as strong as it seemed, there was no telling what he'd seen when he'd touched Tsuzuki. There was no way to predict how bad Tsuzuki's reaction was, until he tried to get through to him.

"Hey," he said quietly a couple feet away from Tsuzuki's bent form. Watari sighed and sat down next to him. "In case you were wondering, Bon is doing fine now. He's with Tatsumi."

There wasn't a single response, although if he listened carefully he thought he heard a sniffle or two. That ruled out catatonia. Well that was one good sign. It would be best if he simply pretended Tsuzuki was actually paying attention. He wished he hadn't left 003 to watch over Bon and Tatsumi. He could have used her help.

Watari went for another try. "We managed to get his empathy under control for now, so if you want to come back to Meifu with me you can get out of this uh...lovely hotel room." Watari grimaced at the unknown stains in the thin carpet he was currently seated on. "Jeez, Tatsumi always picks the worst dumps, doesn't he?"

It seemed he was talking to himself--which he did do frequently. He hadn't really planned on now being one of those times however. He might as well have been reciting the Periodic Table of Elements for all the excitement he was getting. "Hey, you listening?"

If Tsuzuki really thought he was going to sit around all day while he moped, while Bon was probably in full panic mode, while Tatsumi most likely was becoming more anal by the minute in his new job as watch dog, then he had another thing coming. "You, listen up!" With as much leverage as he could muster, he smacked the side of Tsuzuki's head, loosening him from his balled up position. "Are you just going to sit here being pitiful?! Fine, I lied, your partner _isn't_ ok! He's scared and upset, and for some reason you are here sulking in this dung hole instead of being there with him!"

Tsuzuki was now peeking at him startled over his knees, eyes red and watery. "But--" he whispered croakily.

"Don't 'but' me!" Watari snapped. "You, Tsuzuki, are a first rate idiot! You _love _him don't you? Then what are you still doing here?"

Tsuzuki's brow crinkled, more tears slipping down his cheeks. "I...I think he saw something bad. He ran away--he hates me."

Watari threw his hands up in the air. "Oh good lord. You people can be so impossible sometimes. He thought that he'd hurt _you_. He's probably just as scared as you are right now."

Tsuzuki shook his head fretfully. "No. If he saw--he was afraid of me. Oh--" Tsuzuki moaned and pressed his forehead back to his knees. "I ruined it Watari. He's going to leave like everyone else."

Watari turned and lifted himself onto his knees so he could give Tsuzuki a hearty shake--he'd never been very patient, a trait that often brought him trouble as a scientist. "Are you listening to anything I'm saying?! He _doesn't_ hate you. If anything, he needs you right now. Pull yourself together!"

"You don't understand. If I go it will just upset him more! He'll probably never want to see me again!"

"That's it!" Watari stood up and latched onto Tsuzuki's arm and began trying to hoist him up. "Come on! You are being ridiculous and I'm going to prove it to you. If you won't listen to me, then you'll hear it from Bon himself!"

"No! Watari!"

"Cut your crap! If Bon hasn't given up on you this far, then you're stupid for thinking he will now." Watari thought of himself as pretty strong, but Tsuzuki was a dead weight, and he only succeeded in dragging him a foot or so across the floor.

"Let go!"

"No! Get up right now! We're going to Meifu!" Watari gave another big tug and Tsuzuki fell over with a thump.

"Stop! Fine--"

Watari let go and stepped back, looking down on him expectantly. "So you're going to come back with me and talk to Bon reasonably?"

Tsuzuki's face was blotchy when he looked up, eyes wide and scared. "I'll go back, but I'm telling you, he won't want to see me."

He weighed what he'd been told and decided that if he could at least get Tsuzuki back to Meifu, then he had a better chance of proving what he'd said later. "Just come back. When you get over yourself you can do the rest."

Tsuzuki stood up unsteadily, and Watari noticed that he was shaking. A bit of sympathy softened his anger. It was obvious that Tsuzuki really believed Bon hated him now, and he had to wonder what it was that Bon had seen to make him think that way. Whatever it was, Tsuzuki was petrified. "Hey," Watari said gently, placing a comforting hand on Tsuzuki's shoulder. "I wasn't lying. Bon only seemed worried that he'd hurt you. It's scary to not be able to control your powers you know, so give him a little more credit. Even if he's not very good at showing it at times, he really cares about you."

Ducking his head, Tsuzuki wiped at his face. Watari sighed and made sure he had a good hold on him. "Ready?"

qpqpqpqp

When they teleported, Tsuzuki found himself in Watari's lab rather than the infirmary as he'd expected. He shifted uncomfortably, all his nerves on end as if the world would fall down around him any minute.

He was worried about Hisoka--he'd looked so sick when he'd first returned to the hotel room, but he knew Hisoka wouldn't want his concern now. He wouldn't want anything to do with him if he'd really seen--

Tsuzuki could only remember snippets--all from that night, hazy as if pulled from one of his nightmares. He still couldn't be sure how much Hisoka had seen. But the look on his face-- he hadn't wanted Hisoka to see! Everything had been so good before, but now Hisoka would leave him, and it would be so much worse than any of his other partners.

He'd ruined things again. Anything he touched always fell apart. He should have known better than to get his hopes up, especially for something that was almost _too_ good.

Tsuzuki wiped futilely at his face again, unable to stop crying. Watari turned to him and rubbed his shoulder. "Please stop crying. You're over reacting. Really, you'll see."

It was obvious that Hisoka hadn't told the others what he'd seen, _if he'd seen it_, so at least he had that much. He didn't think he'd be able to take it if they all looked at him--knowing, disgusted. Muraki had been right, none of them would understand.

And Hisoka, he'd taken one look, and ran.

Someone like him, if they knew the truth, then they would all be just as afraid, eyes full of disdain and judgment, just like the villagers. He still saw their stares at night, heard their scathing words as painfully as the stones bruising his back. Even after all the years that had passed he still couldn't escape his past--what he'd done.

Even if he wanted nothing more than to believe in happiness, that with Hisoka things could finally be different, better, the truth was that things like that weren't meant for him. Work as a shinigami was punishment he deserved and he was only making things worse for himself by hoping for more.

Watari started walking toward his office and he called over his shoulder. "I'll just check on him first."

Tsuzuki stepped close to the wall as Watari opened the office door, making sure he wouldn't be seen. His hands were shaking as he braced himself, straining to hear anything said over the pounding of his heart.

"Watari-san." It was Tatsumi's voice, a mix of worry and relief. "Where's Tsuzuki-san? Is he alright?"

"He seems fine, maybe just a little shaken up. It took some convincing, but I managed to get him to come back to Meifu. He's uh, waiting outside."

Tsuzuki stiffened, anticipation hanging in the air. He just needed to know for sure--

"You didn't need to bring him here." Hisoka. His voice was rough, but his words came out clear enough.

Tsuzuki hid his face in his hand trying to muffle the pained whine that traitorously escaped his throat. He'd told Watari. He'd known. But--it hurt so much worse to hear it.

"Bon--"

"If he doesn't want to be here, you didn't have to force him!" Hisoka shouted, his voice cracking with emotion.

"I don't think it's that he doesn't _want_ to be here--" Watari tried again.

"You don't have to lie to me!"

Tsuzuki turned his head, a twinge of confusion making it through the mass of other emotions struggling in his head.

"Tatsumi, a little help?"

"You didn't see what I did!" Hisoka yelled, words piercing Tsuzuki right through the middle, and he stopped breathing for a moment. So he really had-- "He's afraid of me. He won't want to be anywhere near me, not after what I did to him! And I--I won't force him to stay if he hates me that much!" There was that crack again, his voice filling with emotions, only this time Tsuzuki knew exactly what they were.

Feet jelly underneath him, he pushed away from the wall and approached the office fearfully. He could still be wrong, misunderstanding Hisoka's words and hearing what he wanted, but--

He paused, fingers gripping the doorjamb, before he could gather enough courage to look inside, his insides twisting into knots. Tatsumi had a hand on Hisoka's shoulder, keeping him from sitting up in Watari's small cot. Hisoka's face was etched with anger, but his eyes, they were shining with the same kind of misery Tsuzuki felt. They flashed in his direction and stilled, his stare widening like a startled cat's. There was that same fear he'd seen in the hotel, the loathing that crushed him in an instant. But...

Maybe...just maybe it wasn't for him?

"Hisoka?" he questioned weakly, ready to be barred from the room completely, rejected outright.

Watari spun around, a appreciative smile spreading on his face at seeing him. Tatsumi's head jerked at the sound of his voice too. They were all staring at him now, but it was Hisoka who he couldn't take his eyes off of.

His face was so pale, still sickly, but at least not feverish as it had been at the hotel. His flaxen hair was mussed, the sort of tousled look Tsuzuki had always found endearing. But it was his eyes, as sharp as cut glass and flickering over his face questioningly that encouraged him.

"I..." he had to swallow, his throat feeling incredibly dry. "I _wanted_ to come."

Hisoka looked like he might cry.

"But--you mean you aren't--back at the hotel you--" Hisoka's lips were trembling, the words tripping on his tongue.

Tsuzuki suddenly felt monumentally stupid. He understood Watari's frustration completely. He'd been too blinded by his own self-hatred to see that Hisoka thought it was directed towards him, and in that same blindness he'd assumed Hisoka also hated him.

"No," he said softly, finally entering the room and approaching the bed. When he got too close, Tatsumi help up his hand, reminding him that Hisoka was still far from being better. He'd gotten so upset that he'd let Hisoka teleport in such a bad condition! Not only that, he had let him think he was alone! They were partners, he was supposed to have his back, and yet he'd failed to do even that. "I was just...it was a shock and I thought you, well, when you left I thought you wouldn't want to see me again," he rambled ashamed.

And now he felt like he'd start crying again. It would be so much easier to say what he really wanted if Tatsumi and Watari weren't still in the room listening to his awkward explanations. It would be so much better if he could just hold Hisoka and know that everything was still alright.

"Oh." And it looked like Hisoka finally saw their miscommunication as well. "Oh..._ok_." He covered his eyes with his hand rubbing at his forehead like he had a headache, but Tsuzuki could see tears shining just beneath the edges of his fingers.

"You know I--" It felt odd to tell him he loved him now, when he couldn't even touch him, couldn't comfort him. Knowing that he was crying because of him was almost unbearable. But he wanted to remind him of just how important he was to him. "Hisoka I--"

"I know," Hisoka said quickly before he could finish, shoulders relaxing if only a little. "It's ok, I know."

There was a long silence, Tsuzuki's eyes glued on him, wishing they could make eye contact again. Even with reassurance, he didn't feel like they'd overcome what had happened. There was too much still unsaid, and it scared him that something could still be broken, something he couldn't see.

What had Hisoka seen? Why did this happen so suddenly?

Watari cleared his throat. "Now that those ducks are in a row, why don't we move to the infirmary? Its more apt for these sorts of things."

Tatsumi nodded, his expression neutral. "Good idea. Bring a wheelchair and that should get us there safely."

Hisoka looked up, face reddening as if appalled by the idea. "I can walk there. It's only across the hall--"

"Bon, you're a patient now and you better follow doctor's orders! If I say you are to rest then that means no walking, plenty of fluids, and under no circumstances are you to yell anymore_. Especially at me_," he added quickly. "Off to get the wheelchair now. Back in a second!"

As Watari passed Tsuzuki he patted him on the shoulder as if to say, "there's a good boy."

Tatsumi stood up and pushed his chair in. Tsuzuki purposefully avoided his gaze. This whole mess was his fault after all. Muraki had led him on, and he hadn't been there when Hisoka had needed him.

'It's ok' he'd said. But it didn't feel that way at all.

Watari came back in with one of the rusty contraptions they still used because it wasn't in the budget to buy new wheelchairs. It wasn't in the budget to buy much of anything new the last few decades. "Ok Bon, hop on board and then we can go about fixing you up."

Tatsumi helped Hisoka off the bed which seemed to embarrass him further, but Tatsumi was too practical to pay it much notice. "And I think it would also be best if you two gave me your reports early. I'd like to know just what happened," he said with authority.

Tsuzuki grimaced. So much had happened since that morning, and he'd made some really big mistakes. He remembered Hisoka begging him not to meet with Muraki. He hadn't listened. He hadn't been there when Hisoka had needed him. And now everyone was going to know that he'd fallen into a fool's trap yet again. He was in so much trouble, and this time, he'd earned it.

1) No, Tsuzuki isn't collecting toilets. Dunnies are small collectible vinyl bunnies which first became popular in Japan (of course). Just type "Dunnies" into google images and you'll see what I mean. They are a few years after my timeline…but I couldn't help myself after seeing them on "Ace of Cakes."


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